


Her Butler, Anew

by Shinyo_Hi



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Adult Ciel Phantomhive, Black Butler References, Demon Ciel Phantomhive, Demon Sebastian Michaelis, Eventual Sebastian Michaelis/Ciel Phantomhive, Kuroshitsuji II | Black Butler II, Minor Sebastian Michaelis/Ciel Phantomhive, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-25
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-05-23 18:53:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 17
Words: 25,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6126721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shinyo_Hi/pseuds/Shinyo_Hi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Somewhere in early twentieth century Europe there lies a manor. Within that manor conceals a bond of ancient and modern.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Her Butler, Anew

“Her Butler, Anew.”

_Red Sun sets. Black curtains close. White waves awake._

_Such is such within the Shadensnare household._

**☽☉☾**  

Waren opens the deep coral blue shaded drapes in order to brighten the room with the Sun’s becoming light. The white and yellow beams cross over his uniform, warming the material, warming him.

_Seven in the morning, time to wake up the Lady._

Waren hears a groan from behind him ─ this brings a sly smile to his lips. As he turns, Waren sees that the Lady has finally awoken from sleep and behind eyes shielded with dark hair, she is glaring at him. He can sense the stare, it’s piercing.

_Annoyed she is. Every morning. It is her same routine._

Waren maneuvers from his place beside the bay window over-looking the bay to his silver tray holding the Lady’s breakfast, picking up a demitasse etched with morning glory vines along with the set’s adjoining, steaming teapot.

“Good morning, my Lady.”

The Lady behind him murmurs a somewhat pleasant greeting and bones within once battered flesh creak as she stretches her well sleep-rested muscles.

“Today for breakfast you have Earl Grey tea,” Waren says he pours steaming water over what seem to be black tea leaves. Soon though, as if within seconds a russet liquid forms within the cup. Scents of citrus fill Waren’s nose.

“Along with the Yorkshire muffins you requested.”

Waren hears the Lady shuffle around in her bed behind him, moving comforters around to release her from their coveting warmth most likely.

“And today’s schedule,” the Lady questions.

Waren sets down the pot, instead picking up a doily set with one of the muffins. The Lady’s crossed legs now dangle off the bed, crossed and hands folded on her lap. She’s look like a pretty doll right about now but with her tangled strands creating a jumbling mass, something says that this doll has been toyed around too much by an infant. Waren crosses the distance between him and the Lady with a few simple strides, then bestows her her ready breakfast.

“There is nothing from now until noon. Joining you on the patio for business measures at noon though will be the Duke of─”

“Do not say “Bulgaria”,” the Lady interrupts.

Waren shuts his mouth as the Lady sips her tea.

“If you do I will claw his eyes out when he arrives.”

Waren nods. The relationship between the Lady and the Duke of Bulgaria has been as rocky as a ship caught in a hurricane ever since their first meeting two years ago.

_She pities herself for he did not die in her hands._

Waren grins to his own thought.

“Of course.”

The Butler bows and begins to take his leave, to call for the Lady’s housemaid but her voice stops him.

“Waren.”

He turns, locking eyes with her. She’s set down her breakfast, tea cup and half-eaten muffin, to stand tall. Or, what seems to be as tall as her age would allow. The Lady has run either the bedside comb or her own fingers through her hair as it now is out of the Lady’s face, casually thrown behind her shoulder and not so much as a noticeable buildup.

“Yes, my Lady?”

The Lady raises her arms.

_Arms raised signifies she is ready to be dressed._

Waren exhales, contemplating on to do what she wants or think for himself and call the maid.

“I’m waiting, Waren.”

An invisible tug on his hand’s flesh causes Waren to push his tray back into the Lady’s bedchamber and close the door behind him.

_A Butler must do what his Master asks of him._

He then approaches the dark tufts cabriole where today’s clothes are situated. Once they are within his grasp, Waren goes back toward the Lady. Her arms still in the air. Waren sets those folded clothing on the Lady’s untidy duvet. Untying the knot of a bow around the Lady’s neck, the Butler takes ahold of the blouse and removes the article of clothing from her body. As Waren retrieves the Lady’s dress, he begins speaking once again.

“It would be best if you have a pleasant meeting with him today. After all, he himself traveled many miles to visit.”

Waren slips the frock over the Lady’s head. Her arms fall to her sides.

“He only visits because he wishes for me to accept his hand, to which I won’t.”

Waren ties the laces to the frock’s bodice, lacing the ribbons into the perfect bows they should be.

“As true as that may be, if I am able to request a thing it would be for you to behave nice. Much money and time was spent to come here, my Lady.”

_Chastise not. However, persuasion works best with the Lady._

The Lady sighs. She sits down on the edge of the bed.

“I’ll be sure not to thank him for that.”

_So stubborn._

Waren kneels and takes the Lady’s foot, slipping a stocking onto her leg then fitting her foot within the stacked boot she believes makes her taller.

“At five ‘o'clock, Doctor Anton and his wife, Missus Robin, will be stopping by.”

The Lady quits her breathing, stops all even subtle movements honestly. Waren looks up as the final leather string is tied of the second shoe, taking note of the Lady’s expressionless façade as he knows there are many thoughts within that head of hers.

“Is something wrong, my Lady?”

Waren continues to stare up at the Lady, up until she stands abruptly.

“No.”

Waren nods then stands as well. The Butler reaches for two pale gloves, sliding the silken material onto the Lady’s hand, concealing their circular emblem from public eyesight. An infinitesimal burning sensation that lasts for no longer than a millisecond is what Waren feels once laying eyes on that mark. Eventually the Lady asks for the last article of clothing to wear today. Her attire is near finished once the Lady is donned a teal, wool overcoat that reaches her knees.

_There is only one thing left to do before a new duty._

Waren turns to the bedside table, taking up a piece of history within gloved fingertips. Alas, the most prized Shadensnare heirloom: the ring. The deep olive stone set on a silver band engraved with oceanic waves.

_What a cursed item for her to want to bear, to wear._

The Lady holds out her right now whiter than usual hand. Waren slips it on her thumb. The Butler then takes up her other hand and on her mid finger places another lesser value of a signet ring which has gone unused for too long a time now. One that resembles a silver rock, clucky at first look. Each diminutive etch in the metal the sins the Shadensnare household have committed over their reign. Needless to say there are more than enough to count on the tiny trinket. True, this is too an heirloom but only the heirs whom have committed sins by their hand have the right to wear it. No, suppose “right” isn’t the correct word. “Responsibility” is however. The Lady though has no family, possibly a distant cousin or two but no-one’s attempted to steal her position nor visit as of today.

Waren would chuckle had he not busied himself with readying the Lady. Jokes and ridiculous things like that are easy to think of and laugh at.

Waren steps back, allowing the Lady to have room in order to step ahead of him. The Lady does go, leaving the room. Waren follows close behind. Glancing at the silver pocket watch given to him as he has been the Shadensnare’s appointed Butler for three years, Waren checks how much the time has passed.

_Precisely twenty-one minutes after seven. Good time-keeping, my Lady._

Waren follows the Lady through the halls of the Shadensnare mansion. The Lady seems to be going toward the sitting room, the one who has a branch door for the patio. This course is then changed when the Lady leads Waren down the elaborate, Malaysian Blackwood staircase. Waren’s footsteps tend to be silent most of the time if not always but the Lady’s are too now since the Persian carpeting silences her boot steps. The Butler notices scuffs on the hand railing, providing him with a new duty to accomplish once the Lady is situated. As the two of them make their way downstairs and into their way into the sitting room, they meet the maid who is on a ladder dusting the glass figurines. The maid hears the two enter the room and glances down. She gasps.

“Good morning, my Lad─”

The maid begins to wobble, the ladder tipping behind her. She yelps as she attempts to balance it, erratically moving back and forth but to no avail does she. Waren manages to nudge the Lady out of the way before the maid and the ladder finally fall. He caught her though on her way down, sticking his leg out in order to catch and intercept the ladder’s fall. With his luck and timing, the ladder did not make a crashing noise similar to thunder within the room. The Lady stops once everything turns disturbingly still.

“What was that,” the Lady questions Waren with her back to the Butler and maid.

“What was what, my Lady?”

The Lady huffs, continuing her way toward the French doors, ones carved intricately from mahogany and imported directly from Paris, which are straight ahead. With the Lady’s back toward the two of them, Waren looks down onto the overly flushed face of the maid the Lady nicknamed Nettie. She shakes in his arms.

“Why must you make messes when you are the appointed one to clean them up?”

The maid cries out, “I’m sorry Waren,” and jumps from his arms.

The Butler kicks the ladder up and holds it in place against the open armoire. Waren glances up toward the Lady, she’s paused with her hand on the golden handle and her shoulders shake. Most likely with laughter.

_And what may you be laughing at, Master?_

The Lady then opens the door, a pleasant summertime breeze accompanied by the scent of the sea fills the room. As her footsteps fade on the pavement outside, Waren redirects his attention to the maid.

“I didn’t mean to fall but you know I don’t have proper balance and I just tried to say ‘Good morning’ to the Lady but darn boots made a lil’ slip!”

The maid stomps her boots and before long Waren raises his hand.

“It’s alright.”

The maid pauses mid-step.

“What?”

“You caused not much of a ruckus. Just continue your dusting more careful than you physically can then go to the kitchen in order to prepare today’s fair alongside the chef as the Lady will have several guests in attendance today.”

Waren bows and leaves the maid to do her duties. He notices the maid has dusted everything within this room─the crystal chandelier above his head, the windows, also the candelabras fixated on the wall and the lamps on the tables beside those dark Chesterfield couches. As Waren makes his way onto the patio, the place of which the Lady will be passing time with the visiting Duke, he notices she is nowhere to be seen.

_Where have you run off to, my Lady?_

Waren smells the air, searching for the distinct perfume his Master is cloaked in. Surely enough, the perfume leads Waren to insinuate the Lady is walking throughout the Thulian colored trees she ordered to be planted in order to bring a slight happiness to visitors. An offering of peace and a soft, feminine color before stepping foot into the dark fortress the Lady has claimed her home to be. Waren follows the recognizable smell of the Lady until he notices the figure robed in teal among the pink some few meters ahead. The Lady walks among the many Cherry Trees, particularly in-between those of which are behind time in blooming. He follows close behind the Lady but hiding behind the trunks once she becomes the little girl she once was and gyrates. Soon enough the air is not filled with the sounds of nesting birds, crashing sea waves below, and footsteps but her voice.

“I once was like you.”

The Lady touches the trees she passes, reaching far above her head for the closed-off blooms.

“A late bloomer. A slow learner of the ways I needed to live, to be accepted. I did not suffer pain throughout what I deemed torture in order to become a proper woman in society who will one day marry into another royal family and breed more fancy offspring who would grow to be spoiled individuals with high standards. All I felt was an insatiable hunger, empty yet so happy to be. Then _it_ happened. The Great Fall. The Shadensnare lineage all but gone within the waves outside their own manor. The capturing of one little girl society knew not as she was unseen by everything around, surrounded by towering trees, sheltered within shadows and kept away from the light of a great day in town.”

The Butler wonders why his Master is telling these things to this Valentine forest, as if they had souls and ears to listen.

“Is that not the sorrowful tale to tell people, Waren?”

Waren pauses behind a trunk, marveled to how the Lady managed to spot him despite his certainty he was a spirit among this place.

“If you wonder why I can call your name now, I will say I’ve felt your presence for a little while whereas you are able to feel mine persistently. You are able to find me wherever I hide. It isn’t a fair game of _Silent Seekers_ but at least you aren’t one of the other servants. They break the code of silence by calling out for me during the times of a run.”

Waren covers his eyes with his hand.

_For how long did the Lady not know that factor of the deal? A Butler must be aware of his Master’s whereabouts at all times lest something occurs to the Master the Butler cannot stop._

“My, my. Aren’t you a little sheepish Silver Fox, Waren?”

Waren chuckles within while appearing from the trees. He approaches the Lady and begins walking aside her.

“If you label me that, yes, I suppose so but I am not sheepish.”

The Lady halts. She looks up to the Butler rather exasperated.

“I don’t label. I tend to tell truths. You are a Silver Fox, when you want to be.”

“Agreed.”

The Lady begins to walk again, growing closer to the end of her trees and the precipice of the seashore below.

“When you came to me, I wondered if I’d gone crazy. Waking up from nightmares and seeing an animal talk to me through the rusty, blood-coated steel bars.”

The Lady smiles.

“It was too bad you became a mere mist then, I enjoyed looking at that cute, silver chubby face for a moment. It made me think as if I had died already, entered into a pleasant world where animals could speak.”

Waren nods, gesturing toward her state of residence to return to. The Master and her Butler begin to make their way back toward the Shadensnare mansion. The Lady asks for some books to read while awaiting the arrival of the Duke or as she prefers to call him, “a cockalorum kind-of client”. Waren believes that surely those several hours of waiting will be enough to finish the cleaning duties and noon preparations for the two. He must set the patio furnishings to the preferred colors of the Bulgarian guest without disturbing the Lady during her waiting time and so much more. That should be no problem.

_After all, if a servant of the Shadensnare household cannot keep quiet, how could he be a good fit to work in such a silent place?_


	2. Chapter 2

As soon as Waren situates the Lady inside and retrieves several rather brand new books owned by an author who recently passed, Ingersoll the last name is, in order for her to pass the immense amount of time with ease, Waren begins work. The Butler quickly exchanges the old flowers in each vase within the home and replaces them with a fresh bouquet of Bulgaria’s national flower, the Ramanas rose. They are fairly invasive on these seashores so it wasn’t too difficult in finding them. Waren makes a mental note to his To-Do list to buy extra weed killer tomorrow before any more guests arrive for the ball. The typical blues and greens of this manor’s tablecloths and napkins are replaced in haste with white and red shades instead. With speed, Waren sets the table with reserved dishes designed with Aztec patterns in perfect alignment. Briskly the Butler pours a grog for the Lady made with lemon juice and rum as she said she needs something to calm her nerves to which he made no objection. Accompanied with fleeting feet, he sweeps the fallen leaves from the cobblestone, retrieves a new tea set from the dining hall and prepares a new brew of imported chamomile tea to soothe the rocky stomach of the Lady, and cleans off any foggy spot from the glasses and silverware all while the Sun gradually begins its ascent into the sky. Soon enough, it is there at its highest point and Waren has finished the work of dusting the whole home’s windows. Opening one, he looks past the courtyard and into the swell of trees bordering the majority of this home. Their perfume concoction of fruit and Summer enters the mansion via the window.

_Noon. How will you behave toward the Duke today, my Lady?_

The Sun however sneaks behind moderate clouds, darkening the lands.

_Will this day have in store something unpleasant for my Master now?_

Waren smiles and wonders when the show will begin. The air then becomes cold, making him contemplate if he should bring out a blanket for he Young Master in prevention of a cold. In the distance Waren hears the whine of horses and the thumping of old wooden wheels against cobblestone.

_At last, our Lady’s guest arrives._

Waren pulls out his pocket watch.

_Two minutes after high noon._

Waren chuckles and sets the silver gift back into his front breast pocket.

_Oh, and the Lady surely hoped he had forgotten this arrangement._

Waren and the other servants of Shadensnare greet the Duke in the foyer. The maid takes into check how “fabulous” his attire is, so nice and clean. It’s a mere suit from Belgium. The chef smiles and compliments the man’s hairdo and its product, how it smells so pleasant and how crisp the cologne seems. It’s a mere mousse from Belgium. The gardeners gawk at the Duke’s priceless trinkets─more specifically the golden buttons and family heirloom jewels. They are mere objects from his home place, Belgium. Nothing sets him apart from any other average man that one comes across.

“Duke,” Waren says, interrupting the sick appraisals. “The Lady is preparing herself. Would you like to join me on the patio until she comes?”

The Duke turns to the Butler, eyeing him.

“Yes.”

Waren bows. As he returns upright, the Butler turns to the servants.

“You may return to your work now.”

The five agree and separate their own ways. Waren leads the Duke on a different course throughout the mansion, still leading him to the patio without coming across the Lady in their path. Once appearing outside, Waren walks the Duke along the ominous pebble path shrouded in the shadows of trees leading to the patio. Waren begins pulling out a chair for him as the Duke appears beside the table and examines it.

“I like the decor. Your idea, I presume?”

“Yes. How did you know,” the Butler questions.

“Because I’m sure the Lady wouldn’t have asked for more reminders of me than my mere presence being at her table.”

Waren huffs. It seems the Duke has knowledge of his Young Master’s predicament with him. The Duke moves from where he stood into the seat, then Waren pushes it in until the Duke’s torso is pressing against the table’s edge.

“I do hope the Lady will not take much longer. After all, we have other plans tonight and I do not wish for her dallying to play a part in unpreparedness.”

The Duke struggles in his seat and attempts to push it back, only the legs are caught between cobblestones and don’t leave much leg room for movement. He looks like a worm in all honestly, squirming about in that manner.

“Is there anything you’d like, Sir? We have tea at hand so a drink perhaps?”

The Duke shakes his head as the Butler stares down at him. Waren senses the radioactive tension from the Duke.

“You could sit down,” the Duke remarks.

“Of course.”

Waren pulls out himself a chair and settles himself. The Duke has given up attempting to move and has set both arms on the table.

_How rude and unsightly._

Minutes pass and Waren hears the Lady moving about in the adjoining room. He turns his head to see the Lady walk out, hair somewhat brushed and pinned up behind her ear but free tendrils crawling across her shoulder and pale mouth in a line. Waren stands.

“My Lady.”

Waren bows. As he is smart and polite, he pushes his own chair in and goes to the Lady in order to complete what the Duke should have at least gotten up to accomplish as surely a man from Belgium could muster enough strength to push a chair back. He pulls out the seat at the head of the table, allowing the Lady to sit down and begins to push it in only to be stopped by the Lady.

“That’s enough.”

Waren nods and stands back. The Lady crosses her legs and looks to her guest. Waren knows she isn’t impressed with his presentation today, having the same thought as he had earlier of which the Duke is no different than other ordinary, humane men. Then again the Lady has known this since their first encounter.

“Hello, Duke Aarden.”

Despite her using no emotion, the Duke nods and simpers toward the Lady.

“Good evening, Lady Shadensnare. How kind of you to have me.”

“I had not much of a choice.”

The Duke smiles awkwardly.

“I’m sorry for the abrupt scheduling. I was coming back my way from Sweden and thought I would form a meeting with you before returning home in a day or two while the ship is at port.”

Waren's Young Master sighs.

“Fascinating.”

Waren wants to tell her to be nice but instead picks up the kettle and pours two cups of tea. Waren soon after distributes them among the individuals present then returns to his spot behind the Lady. The Lady sips at her tea then pauses, inhaling the scent.

“Is this camomile, Waren?”

“Yes, my Lady.”

The Lady hmphs.

“It takes weak, like a daisy.”

“And you would know what daisies taste like how,” the Duke ignorantly questions.

The Lady then looks up to him, sighing once more before turning her head toward Waren.

“Waren. Ask Nettie to clean the staircase. I noticed it was dirty this morning,” the Lady says then returns her attention to sipping the apparent weak floral tea.

Waren nods, slightly surprised as for her to tell him this despite her “enemy” sitting across from her.

_A Butler must do what his Master asks of him though._

The Butler bows and takes his leave. Waren remembers telling the maid to go to the kitchen and aid Murugi with lunch so that is his next objective: make it to the kitchen and save the food while relaying the message. Now Murugi isn’t that awful a cook─the majority of the meals he fixes up are enjoyable but somehow whenever the Duke is in attendance, he messes up a dish or two. Or all of them. He has been the Shadensnare cook for nearly three years but surely a cook like him could provide a guest a better meal than slightly undercooked salmon again. He could've just as easily poisoned the Lady as well as the Duke. With the maid aiding him, some work could be done but they often do nothing together. They mainly make messes and talk. Spending their time by doing miscellaneous activities except their appointed jobs. Just as their other fellow servants. After navigating through the memorized halls, Waren makes his way into the kitchen where he is met by an appetizing array of foods, to the average human stomach at least. Nettie and Murugi both see Waren and stand at attention.

“Waren,” the both of them yell.

Waren sighs as they are worse than the twins. He approaches the counter where the meal is situated, all of it almost finished with a few minor inconsistencies, ones the Shadensnare Butler could easily identify though the ingesters of these fairs won’t notice. Waren inspects the Indonesian spicy and sour fish dish for this evening, _Asam Pedas_. Murugi traveled to Sumatra where it was popular so believed he should cook it today. The dish consists of tamarind, freshwater mackerel and chili peppers.

“Murugi.”

The chef steps forward, dark brown eyes wavering.

“Did you soak the pulp of the Tamarind fruit until it softened in order to cook the fish in it?”

Murugi nods.

“Yes, Waren. And the Indian eggplants are in the oven.”

Waren seems slightly impressed with his work.

“Coated with olive oil and the shipped spices?”

Murugi nods.

“Good, don’t forget the tomatoes for either dish.”

“Yes sir, Waren.”

The Butler then moves over to the station where Nettie finished the dessert for this evening’s supper, Victoria Sponge Cake. The cake named after our late yet still beloved Queen Victoria. Nettie trembles as Waren inspects her work. The sponge cake the Queen enjoyed during tea time normally consists of jam and whipped vanilla cream placed in-between the two sponge cakes, neither cake decorated nor iced besides a simplistic dusting of sugar. Since their Master prefers the strawberry jam, this will be served but as there are guests, Waren implied a second batch containing raspberry jam be made. And it seems as if Nettie has completed both batches. Waren inhales the scent of the cakes, the sweet scent of caster sugar and the jams creating a lovely perfume that will cover up the scent of the dinner guests’ fish breath from supper. Waren notices the maid is sweating and that her trembling has increased. The Butler looks to her.

“Is something the matter, maid?”

The maid’s face grows more red within the passing moments.

“Oh! Why have you not said anything about the desserts? What must I change?”

Ah, yes. The maid who doubts her work though it remains edible. Waren rises from the hunched position he held over the table while taking in the facts and scents of the food.

“Well, first you should take a breath. Secondly, if you want to change something then I suppose you offer side jams to where the guests can relish the sponge cake in two flavors. That’s all.”

The maid exhales a deeply held breath and falls to her knees.

“Oh! Thank you, Waren!”

“Nothing is a problem worth an apology.”

Waren moves from the door and just as he is about to leave, the Butler relays the Lady’s message.

“And Nettie? The Lady wishes for you to clean the staircase in the north hall. She seen it was dirty this morning.”

The maid groans behind him. Waren leaves the kitchen area, retracing his steps back to where he had left the Lady and her utmost “unpleasant” guest. The halls are quiet, the sound familiar yet a rarity within this mansion concerning those servants. As Waren enters the sitting room, he is able to hear the Duke screaming from the patio.

“Why did you do that to me?”

Waren notices he sounds as if he is in pain. He also is aware that the Lady has been sitting down in the same state of which he left so surely she couldn’t have gotten up and done something. Or that is what Waren thinks for another moment, up until he stands directly behind the threshold. This is when he takes in the fact that the Duke’s face is now drenched with the golden tea through the onyx-dyed gossamer lace portières. His Young Master's face is impassive, as is her voice as she speaks.

“Because maybe it is from the fact that you are a stone broken down from a stone cold lineage, Duke Nell Aarden from Bulgaria who repeatedly asks for my hand yet when is denied plots a new way for me to say “yes” so I tell you now, boy, quit being to be the fraud you are along with your petty attempts to steal my estate, money, and remainder of my patience and happiness.”

The Lady’s eyes are set in the direction of the Duke, peering between slitted lids. The Lady's cocks her head and eventually a pallid face softens like left out butter after dinner and partially grins.

“No worries.” She sets the teacup, that Waren notices is empty, down. “I’m sure someone will fix your face up in no time.”

“Who? Your Butler?”

Waren hears the Lady scoff and sees the Lady touches the ring on her mid-finger.

“Goodness. I would never make my Butler touch you with an order from my lips lest he would contract your indecency.”

“And where is your Butler now?”

“Beside my Lady.”

Waren lays a hand on the chair above the Lady’s head. She doesn’t turn to look at him, the stunned look on the Duke’s sullied face shows enough proof. Waren does move though to her side.

“Would you like some more tea, my Lady?”

She nods, Waren picking up both the teapot and saucer. After pouring a fresh new cup, Waren sets one orange peel within the cup in hope it will freshen up the flowery taste with citrus. Returning it in front of the Lady, Waren takes note that the Duke has sat down.

_He must be weary to what the Lady may do now, drink the tea or splash it onto his skin again._

The Duke wipes his own face with his white serviette, not patient enough for an order to be made for someone to be called here and aid him. Waren rests the near empty kettle down and returns to his appointed spot behind his Young Master. The Duke scrunches the napkin within his hand, the golden ring on his hand gleaming in the returning sunlight. The Lady’s guest begins to look around, as if searching for something that is not here.

“How come none of the Beechwood Chippendale furniture I gave you as a gift have been set out for our meeting today?”

The Butler wonders why the Duke had forgotten what he said earlier. "“Because I’m sure the Lady wouldn’t have asked for more reminders of me than my mere presence being at her table.”"

“The color is far too light for this household,” The Lady calmly states.

She picks up her new tea with ease, seeming happy to the addition.

“So I had them burned.”

The Duke then becomes filled with such an unexpected anger he violently slams his fists down on the table, nearly denting it. The Butler’s eyes widen to the action, not believing this ordinary man should been so strong to damage this strong piece. The Lady continues to sip at her drink, unimpressed with this man’s rather feeble temper. True, she’s seen worse. This is merely a peeble compared to the boulder she was once hit with.

“Those pieces were originals, expensive, handcrafted!”

“I noticed that,” the Lady retorts.

“So why did you have them burned?”

The Duke seems to be overly concerned about furniture. The Butler realizes this. The Lady looks up at her guest, smirking, leaning toward him from her seat.

“Because I like watching things burn. I like seeing the red it gives beside the sea from my windowsill.”

The Duke’s face grows more cerise as his temper increases.

“How dare you! I attempt to be kind, to be good, to befriend you and what do you do?”

The Dukes slams his fists on the table once more.

“You burn my gifts! Disrespect my presence! I have been nothing but kind to you from the start and you decided to kill me off!”

The Butler moves from behind the Lady to stop the Duke from hitting the table again, not in fear for the piece of furniture being damaged, no. Instead to stop the Lady from being annoyed any further. Waren catches the man’s arm in mid-swing, holding back the Duke’s puny strength compared to the Butler’s. The Duke’s arm trembles. The Duke can’t tell if it’s from the building up energy or fear behind that swing he planned to plant into the wood, splintering most likely, having the Butler replace it due to the one inconsistency in the massive piece.

_Imbecile of a man. No wonder his Young Master doesn’t like him. Puts lower men to him on a higher pedestal._

“Please do not abuse the furniture, Duke of Bulgaria. You wouldn’t want the Lady to come to your home and destroy your things, correct?”

The Duke abruptly turns his head toward Waren, gaze festering with negative emotion.

“Unhand me, you _slave_.”

The Butler smiles. Every tooth bared. This causes the Duke’s breath to stop. No-one prefers to see this Butler smile as it is an odd one, uncomfortable to witness. All muscles cramp up within the Duke.

“Only if you do not touch this table again. Much energy would be wasted to restore it and it’s in my place for the Lady to not have any mess on her mind, no trouble.”

“Waren!”

Both the Butler and the Duke look to the Lady, one who has set her tea down and stood. Her line of sight in the direction of the sitting room.

“I’ve grown tired of this council. Please escort the Duke to his carriage.”

Waren’s face returns to the resting expression he’s bore all day and releases the Duke’s limb. The Duke grabs at it, groaning in pain. The grip the Butler had on it had never cut off all circulation, hopefully it wasn’t too much to cause damage.

“Yes, my Lady.”

Waren bows. The Lady begins to make her way toward the room only to stop on the threshold. She places her hand on the frame, glancing at Waren with eyes fueled with mirth.

“And Waren? I suggest you make his removal as moderate as possible.”

Waren understands this and bows once again. He understands the true command she wants that has no reason to be said out loud. It may tip the Duke off. The message is within his mind. Clear as the bay water on a Sun-filled day.

“Yes, my Lady.”

_At no matter what plausible outcome, a Butler must do what his Master asks of him._

His Young Master nods and disappears into the mansion. Now it is just the Butler and the Duke in the wide open space flanked by home, trees and sea. Waren hears the Duke mutter something about feeling grateful of being rid of the Lady’s presence while using an unintelligent term typically used for a motherly dog. Waren then looks down to the Duke. Once the Duke senses the stare and gawks up at the Butler, into the unnatural eyes he reveals within an instant of eye contact, the Duke shrieks into the Summer Sun.


	3. Chapter 3

Waren finds the Lady in her private sitting room, walls lined with books─it is like her own personal library to where the Lady doesn’t have to venture into town for mental entertainment. With back turned, Waren is able to tell she is writing something, most likely across the new ivory parchment she received midday yesterday. The Butler has snuck a few reads of her work due to a growing curiosity of what his Master may do in her said downtime, scanning the first few lines of poems and tall tales, distant dreams and the common nightmares. She has been only writing for a few years, two at most but her words speak volumes with an age beyond hers. That must be because of the horrors she’s experienced. How she chooses to speak her thoughts out without murmuring a word to any one of her servants, to her Butler. Waren knocks at the door and the Lady slows raises her head, the dark curls falling off her shoulders.

“Is it done?”

“Yes, my Lady.”

The Lady exhales, seemingly satisfied.

“Finally, that wretch is gone. Did you leave an impression on him?”

The Butler half-grins.

“Quite. I don’t believe he will save a date for your next meeting.”

Waren moves to her side from the doorway, resting a hand on the top rail. The Lady somewhat chuckles. She leans back in her seat, spindles creaking. She looks out the window, watching the carriage speed through the maze of trails.

“In fact, he will not plan for another for quite a time.”

“He’s quite the idiot. He will crash if he doesn’t slow down.”

The Butler thinks the same while reminiscing how he managed to squeeze every drop of fear from that Duke’s body and took it into himself, into his senses and transformed it into some else, another thing that created a new batch of fear within the Duke.

“Yes, but if he slows down he may fear I am on his tail.”

The Lady looks up to Waren, the dark green scanning his face.

“You’ll always be.”

The Lady looks back out the window. The carriage the panting and distress-driven Duke resides in managed to survive the trails and disappears off down the hill from the Butler and Lady’s sight lines. The Lady’s hand grasps the upholstered arm of her seat.

“No matter who comes before me, no matter who sets their lies on my plate, it’s your job to drive the Shadensnare curse deep within their minds, heart, their skin and souls. I will not take imbeciles and idiots into my favor, into my home and care if they choose to do what is best for them. Selfishness is uncalled for in that amount. If someone threatens my home again, treats my servants, my home, my furniture even with the slightest bit of anger, I will appoint you to deliver onto them the one thing they deserve.”

The Lady stands from her seated position and turns around to face Waren. Despite their height differences, the Lady makes the situation feel as if the two of them, Butler and Lady, are equals.

“Yes?”

“Yes, my Lady.”

 _A Butler must do what his Master asks of him._ _Always._

A commotion in the hall brings both attentions to the door. The twin gardeners enter, pants and boots caked in soil and mud. As soon as the Lady sees this, Waren halts them.

“Don’t you dare enter here, boys!”

The twins stop, heaving.

Waren turns about to the Lady again.

“No need to worry, I will sort this mess out. Enjoy your leisure time until the Doctor arrives.”

The Lady nods, walking past the Butler and soon the dirty twins. The twins eyes follow her.

The younger one, Gard, questions his elder brother, “Doesn’t she know the Duke disappeared?”

Waren appears behind them, pinching their ears and picking the twins up by them. They squeal in pain like pigs in a slaughterhouse.

“I’m sorry for the late message but I must regrettably inform you that our guest had to take an abrupt leave from our grounds.”

Waren releases the boys ears and they fall to the ground. They look up to the Butler with their teary blue eyes.

“Now I hope you don’t mind telling me… why the two of you are dirtying the floors of this mansion‽”

The two boys scream in fear and hug one another, as if a safety precaution. Garth, the elder twin, is the one who decides to tell their tale.

“Oh, we didn’t mean to Waren! We were only weeding the African lilies when we saw the Duke throw his driver in the back and began driving the carriage himself, whipping those poor horses’ hides raw. He seemed as if he chose to bail on meeting the Lady today since he just arrived and we only wanted to inform her so we searched and searched the whole house for her or you and neither Nettie nor Murugi seen either of you since serving tea and we concluded this was the last place to look and─”

“Shh.”

The boys gasp to being hushed, breaking their wanted silence. Waren pinches his nose bridge, certain a humane headache will form due to their incessant rambling.

“Okay. Firsty, why were you weeding? That isn’t either your strong suits and I’m sure your combined brains can process that. Secondly, you ran through the whole house? With filth all over your bodies?”

The boys tremble, like the dark green leaves of the estate’s Bull Bay trees.

“We were weeding because we wanted to do something in order to impress you, Waren,” Gard admits.

This surprises Waren since no-one has tried to work for something so useless before.

“And we had no choice but to run through here dirty,” this is Garth now, “or else the Lady would never have realized he left!”

“Or that’s what we thought while we searched,” Gard replies.

Waren stands in silence, imagining the mess the twins made throughout this place. Mud and dirt and the weeds on carpet, rugs and wooden floorings.

_Hopefully the Lady won’t mind my disappearance for a while. I must do what I need to accomplish._

Waren stares at the boys, annoyed, yes, with their doings today but they have tried to do something.

_Maybe the flowers don’t even look that bad after all. And the food for dinner should be completed in a well half-hour, or so._


	4. Chapter 4

“You nearly ruined them!”

The boys cry out apologies as Waren stares down at the pitiful job they did with the flowers, many of the purple petals strewn on the ground along with some weeds. The rest of the plants a jumble mess of flora and nasty, poisoned weeds. The Sun’s rays warm his back, casting his shadow in front of him.

“As Shadensnare Manor ménage, I’d expect more from a couple of gardeners.”

Waren chuckles, silencing the twins.

“At least the Doctor and his wife will not be coming in this direction today. You’ve earned a well day being able to clean this mess up.”

_ Yes, perhaps these flowers can be recovered. The Lady’s acquaintances in Africa could surely send new seedlings her way. _

The boys sigh, calmed. Waren turns to them and hunches over their bodies.

“If this mess is not completed tomorrow at noon, you will have me to deal with.”

The boys yelp out. Waren returns upright and opens his pocket watch to look at the time once more.

_ Fifteen minutes after one. _

There’s still time to clean the house. There is no doubt the maid didn’t finished the staircase, buffed and polished every inch of the wood until it was perfect to the Shadensnare likings. Waren decides to do what the average Butler cannot do. He must sweep up every room’s floor, dust every object and piece of furniture the boys flew past sending particles of sweat and filth onto, he must check in on dinner and fix any mistakes the chef and maid made, clean the windows, set the dinner table to the final meal of the night’s settings but also clean up the Lady’s bedroom as his silver tray is still up there, food and tea long gone cold, her bed is just as she left it. Waren must go into town and send in a mere reminder for Madame Zaffre, a bumptious seamstress in order to fit the Lady will her custom ordered ball attire. All of this to be done before the Doctor and his Missus arrive, in this such small time frame? Yes, it is impossible for an average Butler. Waren doesn’t doubt his ability to complete every stage of his heavy load though.

_ If a servant of the Shadensnare household cannot do that, how could he be a fit human being to work in such a place? _


	5. Chapter 5

“Many people won’t tell the difference between coral blue and teal. Would you expect them to tell the difference between raspberry or strawberry jam, Waren?”

Waren shakes his head in disagreement as he serves the Doctor and Missus Robin a classic Belarusian dish, Ukha. It’s a clear broth enriched with fish and root vegetables. The Lady and her guest’s discussion was over originally how clean this manor seems to be, not a speck of dust in sight so per usual the Lady said Waren was the one to do the majority of the cleaning then slowly transitioned to the colors Waren decorated the dining room with and they mistook them for teal whereas the Lady specifically pointed out they were in fact coral blue. Her guests were flustered to their mistake, taking in the fact that Missus Robin is a part-time Ophthalmologist and not being able to tell the difference between even the strawberry and raspberry jams presented for dessert seemed to make her overly embarrassed.

“Our apologies,” the Doctor says as the Lady takes a sip of a Ferrand Cognac, the original 1840 golden liquid washing down the fishy aftertaste of dinner. Waren imagines the floral and tannic notes flowing through her throat as he stands behind her, hand resting on the cresting rail of the dining room Hepplewhite chairs. It brings a fresh start to the palate once dessert begins.

“Doctor, will you tell me the reason you came here today? Surely it wasn’t purely for a social visit and to bring your wife with children at home means it is important.”

As the Lady continues to eat the previous dish, the Asam Pedas, the Doctor wipes his mouth and rests his folded hands on the table.

“Yes, it wasn’t for a purely social visit. For these previous few months my wife and I have been reviewing your lineage’s medical history, studying the work of Landsteiner. We spotted nothing, no inconsistencies until we reached you. Particularly since you returned after your long absence. We have reason to believe you are not the biological child of the late Earl Douglass and Countess Louisa Shadensnare.”

The Lady stabs at the mackerel with a knife due to his statement. Waren senses an overbearing weight of nervousness resting on the Lady. Before the Doctor could go any further and the Lady could answer, Waren interjects. He serves up another piece of fish to the doctor as quickly as he is able to, surprising both the Doctor and the Missus to his abrupt movement.

“Doctor, did you receive an invitation to the Lady’s ball tomorrow? Surely you did since you were once such a close person to her predecessors.”

The Doctor is confused momentarily then regains stable thoughts.

“Oh, no. We haven’t received any mail lately.”

Waren smirks.

“Something must be wrong with the system, it has been rather delayed these previous few weeks. Please know the both of you are welcome to attend the festivities.”

As Waren rests the platter of fish down on the table, the guests and himself hear the Lady begin to chuckle which turns mild then into a hysteric laughter. The guests are confused to why their evening Master is behaving such a way to their discussion. The Lady hugs herself, worrying Waren as, yes, he’s been working here for a little amount of time, he has never seen the Lady act in this odd manner. Her eyes leak tears as her mouth expels the piercing sound. Waren is able to see the couple in front of him clasp their hands together in fear this laughing attack will send the Lady into a rage of a sort. Waren begins to step toward his Master, halting once her voice quits ringing throughout this expansive room.

“Oh, my. Doctor Clarence Anton. Robin Fitzgerald.”

The Lady ducks her head toward her lap, hiding her gaze with her dark hair that has Waren remember has yet to be thoroughly detangled despite her apparently brushing it earlier.

“You are the parents to three marvelous children. Anne, Sue Maria and Jacob whom all behave well at home and school. One would think such a family is perfect.”

The Lady glances up to her guests, one green eye seething with the dark emotion that impresses Waren. This makes him excited so he makes sure he is out of her way when she chooses to do what she needs.

“But no family is perfect, now are they?”

The Lady stands suddenly, knocking back her chair a good foot. Waren watches her make the way from her previous location to the guests.

“Families are full of not truth, love and peaceful Sunday meetings over dinner. There are lies. Deceit. Betrayals to the most heinous of standards.”

The Lady pauses before the Doctor’s face, mere inches away. Waren wants to move her away since he doesn’t wish for anyone to be as close as the Lady is to anyone but something tells him to stay put.

“You tell me I am not the legitimate heir to the Shadensnare title, manor, servants yet every fourth day you visit a brothel and ask for the same women you’ve impregnated multiple times over the years in order to have more fun that you apparently ever could with your own hitched partner.”

The Missus gasps at the Lady’s revelation now, shocked possibly to how long this affair has been going on.

“Children have been produced of these deeds‽” The wife cries out.

The Doctor turns toward his wife.

“No, Robin. I don’t know what she is talking about.”

Even Waren can sense in the air the falsities he’s spoken. Particularly in the way his voice cracked and not with emotion. No, there’s always a way to tell if someone is lying.

_The Lady is smart, exploiting his amours in front of his wife before the days of their wedding renewals._

**_It only worked because you did the digging for those hidden bones, you sly dog._ **

Waren turns toward the Lady, both of them smirking.

“You mustn’t believe her. I have been faithful to you since Day One. Day One…”

The Missus stares in disbelief, eyes relocating their sight lines to both the Lady and the man before her. The Lady becomes upright and sighs.

“If I must say it, scream it against the lapping waves outside my doorstep or provide a Siren Song, I will as it is my duty.”

The Lady slaps the Doctor across his face once his head turns toward her and leaves four parallels of welts against his flesh.

“I am Lady Maya Shadensnare and I _am_ the daughter of Douglass and Louisa! Your records are wrong. I know my history. I’ve lived through the curse and pain this name offered at birth.”

The Doctor holds his cheek as he glances up the Lady.

“So I suppose you leave my home, now. I don’t typically let dogs in my house, they stink up the place.”

Waren gives a little chuckle to the Lady’s remark as the Doctor nods and raises from his chair. He dares not look a peek at his wife, well, his soon be ex-lover and leaves this dining hall. The Missus turns to the Lady, clutching a necklace at her throat, but before she can say anything, the Lady turns toward Waren.

“Arrange Missus Fitzgerald a ride home. I will wait for your return.”

The Missus bows and gives her thanks to the Lady for revealing those things, even if at an inappropriate time despite the man who she thought loved her saying the Lady wasn’t truly who she said she was.

“No worries, go home now and take your children elsewhere. To remaining relatives who care for you and your loss.”

The Lady nods toward Waren then leaves the room all together, most likely retiring to her sleeping quarters. Waren looks to the red-faced, teary-eyed woman he must escort home whose scent of a familiar rose welcomes him for the first time tonight.

_Of course, my Lady. A Butler must do what his Master asks of him._


	6. Chapter 6

As Waren returns the Lady’s personal horses to their stables after the ride into town and dropping the Missus off at her home where the Doctor was nowhere in sight, he catches a glimpse of his Master in a lit window. He chuckles which frightens the horses a bit but not enough to send them running off the cliffs. After safely leaving them be with enough food, approximately half a day’s worth, Waren reenters the house. Hastily he begins cleaning up dinner but finds in the dining hall all the servants enjoying the remnants. Including the previous Butler of the house, Abram Lea, who is sipping at lemonade. He always misses the action of the typical day’s events. Pity the Duke hadn’t met with Lea, he maybe would’ve stayed to know there was a sane person within this household. He warns them that if they do not clean up the mess, all present except for Lea, they will have him to deal with when they wake up. He menacingly added as he sauntered through the dining hall door way, if they wake up, for emphasis. Their gasps behind him and the old man’s chuckle are what they leave Waren with. Entering the kitchen, Waren finds his silver tray in the position where he left it earlier during his cleansing of the Lady’s room. Waren then takes his rolling cart throughout the mansion, traveling his way up to the Lady’s bedchambers. He knocks on the door but the Butler hears no answer when he reaches that room. Entering the room with his silver tray, his entrance is accompanied with a gust of wind from the window he’d opened earlier to air the room out. Waren sees the Lady standing between those thick drapes. The Lady turns her head slightly, indicating she knows her Butler is there behind her.

“There you are. I wondered if you chose to stay in the stable tonight.”

Waren chuckles then closes the door. The Lady has taken her wool coat off and folded it neatly on the bed while waiting for his return. Waren moves his way in front of the Lady, closing the window and shutting those drapes in order for there to be complete privacy from public eye.

“The hay would’ve gotten the suit you bestowed me dirty.”

Both individuals go over to a side of the Lady’s bed and soon the Butler begins to untie those bodice laces on the Lady’s frock.

“How come you didn’t stay in town,” the Lady inquires. “I’d think someone as well-mannered as yourself would enjoy socializing, that it would be a bit fun.”

“I will do just that after you become friends with the Duke.”

Waren stares down at the Lady.

“Which means your idea will never see light.”

The Lady chuckles as he raises the garment over her head and folds it whilst standing there. As he reaches past the Lady to take ahold of the blouse she typically sleeps in, he begins taking notice to the scars on her side abdomen, arm and lower back.

“Would you like some salve for those, my Lady?”

The Lady looks down to her side, realizing what Waren is speaking about.

“No. I would’ve needed to some when I first got them, not years after.”

“Too late is never an answer.”

The Lady sighs. Waren slips the shirt over her head and she threads her arms through the sleeves. Waren goes to her hands and removes the trinkets, placing them onto the table. He takes the gloves off as well, resting them on the other articles of clothing she had worn today. Waren sees how red the Lady’s fingers are, as if they were chapped by Winter.

“What about your hand? You put much force behind the assault.”

The Lady shakes her head, still more silent than a piece of wood. Waren readjusts the piece of clothing on the Lady’s body. The white reaches her knees as basically everything else whether beginning at her toes or shoulders. He takes those blue laces and begins tightening the garment to her.

“How come you changed the placements on the patio table today,” the Lady questions hushed as Waren finishes tying the neck ribbon of her bedtime blouse.

“Because blue and greens aren’t typical Bulgarian colors.”

“So white and red are?”

“Apparently so, my Lady.”

With a simple nudge of her shoulder, Waren manages to make the Lady sit on her bed. Kneeling, he takes her one of her legs and begins untying those leather strings. He knew the laces would stay together all day and they did. He does this with the other foot then removes her stockings as well.

Everything is now ready to be washed of the Lady’s.

Waren sets everything on his previously cleared off silver tray, included those boots. They could use a good scrubbing after all, the soles have a seat of soil in the cracks from the forest walk.

“That just shows he and I will never get along,” the Lady murmurs.

Waren turns to the Lady, grinning.

“Humor me of how so.”

The Lady licks her lips but does not talk. After a few passing minutes of silence and an ever racing heartbeat, Waren goes to the Lady. He kneels in front of her and takes her hands. This releases the stitches on her mouth and loosens the frog from her throat to alas she speaks.

“White slipping into red. Fair skin stained with blood. Innocence being ruined with torture. You can’t expect me to believe being at that table was as easy as blinking.”

Waren looks up to her, how slit her eyes are in prevention for possible forming tears to fall.

“With the Duke being there I imagined it being highly difficult as your friendship is far more than strained,” the Butler responds.

“No, that is the majority of it.”

The Lady raises her head, eyes bloodshot from both tears that won’t dare fall past their appointed line and exhaustion.

“You must understand though, Waren, that when I see those two colors together, white and red, they bring images back. Ones I have spent time after time again burying within blue, black, and green. How untouched I wish to be by those mental sights but I am human and often I have no choice. Just as I have no choice in rethinking whether if I should hunt down myself those monsters or give everything up right here and now, make a fool out of my name, and draw them in with me as the bait.”

“You’re tired, my Lady. You should rest now.”

The Lady sighs.

**_Good night._ **

The Lady release the Butler’s hands, hiding his mark from their sight because her other free, unblemished hand and climbs into her bed to be hidden underneath a thick cover, enveloping the Lady within its wide reach. Waren nods to her wanting to sleep and takes the candelabra from her bedside table. He takes also his tray and rolls it out ahead of him. Waren closes the Lady’s bedroom door. Turning his back to her and walking in an opposite direction, Waren begins to relish in his own thoughts… He is hungry, not for a humane meal, no. For something much more of a fancier price. His stomach yearns for it, a soul.

_‘A soul that has met too many people both gentle and adulterating, one that has experienced too many emotions both pleasant and unforgiving, one that has been a bystander to both its owner’s truth relishings and false tales.’_

That is one Waren yearns for.

_There is though an ingredient more potent to any other flavor in this world._

As Waren moves down the dark hallway, one that instead brightens with a golden light and doesn’t fade into a dark pit of infernal despair as per usual, he licks his lips to the thought of how close this Young Master is to achieving her victory, her revenge.

_It’s the final spice needed for this meal._

Waren begins to speak, deep voice ricocheting off through the silent halls and shut doors, closed windows and emotionless paintings he passes.

“A salty soul born within the sea, the body filleted then bathed in darkness for months on end but in the end seasoned with the completed, precious revenge of the murders of those whom have deceived their own kind.”

This makes Waren starve but, yes, he must wait. Wait for another day. He will wait another week and month. He would wait for two years or two decades if it meant he would be able to take that soul of Lady Maya.

_After all, what type of Butler would he be if one satisfied his own needs before the Master’s?_

**☽☉☾**


	7. Her Butler, Inherent

"Her Butler, Inherent"

**☽☉☾**

With a simple twist of the door knob, Waren enters his Master’s bedroom in preparation for awaking her. Only something is different about today. Yes. The moment he opens the door, a knife comes flying his way. Catching it between quick fingertips, he peers in the direction it came from. Leaning on a bedpost is the Lady, wide awake, seemingly ready for the day, and who is staring at Waren deadpan.

_Master, your aim has improved._

“You are awake early, my Lady.”

Waren pushes his tray into her room and places the thin silver knife on one of the new linens. He is careful in not tearing it. He lifts up a red glass tea bowl and begins pouring a new, fresh cup of tea for the Lady. _White Darjeeling tea_. Proper enough for her morning drink yet has a hint of sweetness. The pale golden color quickly fills the appointed teacup and a calming, frail scent accompanies it.

“The both of us know even this time would be too early for me to rise, Waren.”

The Lady moves her way from her bedpost, brandishing another knife. That sliver of silver is toyed in-between thin fingers. She approaches Waren as he sets down the ivory teapot. From what Waren takes, the Lady has cleaned herself up well. Besides the only thing being she hasn’t brushed her hair, she’s suited herself up appropriately. Doning a recently purchased navy overskirt, a matching blouse, and fair floral perfume. Suitable. Though no shoes must leave her feet cold as the patter of bare heels against the floor suggest.

“It shouldn’t be that much of a shock that I can sometimes take care of myself.”

Waren plucks the knife from the Lady’s grasp and replaces it with a saucer. Her features melt from humorous to serious.

“Your tea, my Lady.”

“Thank you,” says she as a sip is taken.

“Your schedule?”

The Lady shakes her head and moves toward a _Butler’s desk_. Typically the desk was meant for the Lord of the house and all the necessary records  ─mainly financial and/or business─ were to be hold within and reserved for the highest ranking servant’s eyes only. However, years have passed and the Lady elected to move the piece of light furniture mistakenly polished dark in here of all places. Not the study or a parlor or another room where business is held. Here.

Following her suit, soon enough the two of them are back at square one. Waren holds again his Master’s tea but the Lady opens up the desk in order to riffle through the few remaining slips of parchment left.

“I know what’ll happen like they are the scars I bear. I am to be woken up. Breakfast. The seamstress arrives. A party begins. A party ends. Dinner for all. And the rest is a trip down a subconscious memory lane.”

The Lady finds whatever she is looking for and holds it up for Waren to see.

“Too bad I woke up myself and feel no need for breakfast.”

Waren takes the piece of parchment from between his Master’s fingertips and asks what it is. The Lady takes her tea back and moves her way toward her _Spinet desk_ constructed from _English yew_.

“It’s something special for the guests tonight. Something sweet.”

Waren opens the envelope and removes a slip of white paper listing what seems to be ingredients for a dessert Waren surprisingly hasn’t heard of neither tried.

“ _Zefir_?”

“It’s Russian. And it is a sweet.”

“You’d like for this to be served tonight? For the multitude of guests who the vast majority of will be adults?”

Sugar. Egg whites. Other necessities…

_Whoever said the Lady does nothing certainly would presume she was the one who chose this._

“If the lot bother to show up.”

The Lady sits at her desk and waits for Waren to set the recipe down. And he does. Maneuvering his way from his abandoned silver tray he appears beside the Lady. She looks up to him with what seems to be a puerile look.

“In the eyes of everyone else, Waren, I am a child. What better way to offer more evidence to that than have sweets be offered at a fancy event?”

Waren doesn’t answer. Instead the Butler picks up an ebony and gold embellished brush brought to the Lady from an old friend in order to begin combing away at her dark and fairly tangled hair. He would’ve sent himself off to do whatever means necessary, cleaning, watching closely over the other servants of this household to see how they perform their jobs, correcting their mistakes as they go along. It’s because Waren knows best out of the lot but as it is a rather important day for the Lady, Waren decided to take up grooming and make with an absolute rigor that she is presented best tonight.

The Lady is atypically active this morning, have dressed herself decently well before the dressmaker’s arrival without any aid of a servant. More specifically have risen before Waren came in to have her rise. It appears to him that with a straight posture and stiff shoulders that the Lady is anxious. As she has every right to be. As the antisocial individual she is, Waren feels as if he could relate to it. After all… Waren being _Him_ has shown to have lived many months alone. The Lady sips at her tea as it’s still hot.

Gloved fingertips brush against the side of the Lady’s neck that will be hidden from public view as of today. It is on this, the left side of the Lady’s neck where a distinct thin yet jagged and once very deep line resides.

_Another day, another scar._

Nothing quite inhibits a person’s judgement as passion does. A person’s ultimate desire, in the Lady’s case: getting revenge on Shadensnare traitors, could be hindered useless as you send too much emotion into the act, blind judgement. Unfortunately his Young Master dealt with a harsh blow quite literally and figuratively when learning this.

As Waren focuses on his task at hand, his thoughts nearly returned to that night. However, Waren decides it is not the proper time to dawdle on such a subject and instead begins pinning curls against her head. Since there will be guests in her household, many of whom the Lady wouldn’t care about if it had been in her way setting this day up, Waren makes sure there are in their proper places and will hold no matter what course of rough action could ensue. Waren also makes a note to make sure that the servants are to be in their proper places and will behave no matter what action may arise.

_What kind of Shadensnare servant would openly behave improper?_


	8. Chapter 8

Accompanying the Lady on her walk throughout the halls of her house, Waren gives the maid the piece of parchment in order for her and Murugi to begin preparing that such course by merely gathering the materials and literally whipping up a sample batch. The Lady and her Butler ─mainly himself─ exchange words of what should be done to lighten the rather drab atmosphere of this manor’s first floor as that is the only place the guests are prohibited to be. Waren reassures his Master that he will do what is necessary in order for this place to seem imposing to the future guests this estate will receive.

Afterward, he escorts the Lady downstairs to a tea room mainly reserved for business in order for her to wait. By checking his pocket watch, Waren can see it is approximately two hours before the seamstress should appear so leaving his Young Master to tend to herself and to indulge herself in the tea, Waren begins his work. 

Within the manor, it’s trading out the dark, unfavorable-to-the-human-eye drapes among the first floor with more a more cheerful, lighter shade of blue and decides to leave them open in order to allow the halls be welcomed by outside light. He takes careful attention to dusting, unsoiling the painting frames and heirlooms of which dot walls. Amid all the rooms, he scrubs away the dirt stains from the twins and occasionally checks on his Master in order to see if she needs anything. Each time she does not. He places flowers in each the vases, watering them as well so the area will have a fresh scent of the flora. Outside the house, Waren begins trimming the hedges around the estate that the guests will be passing by on their ways in, all the while knowing it will give them a chance to judge the Shadensnare household based on appearance as if there weren’t any possible other way in deciding if the night would be favorable or not. He plants new wine sprouts, sows seeds in windowsill boxes, and all of this takes him no time to accomplish. After all, no task is too monumental for Waren to perform. The only reason a task should be dwelled on is if you yearn for perfection. However, the Lady said do not dwell on “perfection” and to do only enough to please the eye.

When returning inside to check on the Lady and servants, his Young Master is not found in the bright tea room which is only attended by a grey shine. The tea abandoned but scent of his Lady fresh and from the tray a cup missing. As he follows his nose, he hears chatter coming from the direction of the kitchen and the Lady is one of those voices. Entering the room, the servants stand at attention and the Lady turns about. She has a tea cup of the _white Darjeeling_ and is positioned against several crates holding a liquor Waren previously ordered in a somewhat high demand from the Lady’s businessman company in Japan in preparation for tonight.

_Well, aren’t you the active Miss today?_

The chef asks Waren if what he has done is correct, meaning he has finished the first batch of said sweet. Waren looks to his Master who ushers him forward. Waren rolls up his sleeves in order to not get any ingredients from the surface on his rather dark clothing; this action makes the maid seemingly swoon and disappear from sight. He’ll never understand her reactions to his actions. Waren takes up one of the macaroon-esque sweets and sniffs it. The ingredients seem to be all there but Waren has no intention of eating one in order to figure that out.

“The Lady said they were edible,” says the chef.

Waren again glances over to the Lady; she has a smirk spread across her face. It is obvious she enjoyed the sweets or else she would have put her two-sense into the conversation. He smells the pastry within his fingers once more and nothing is too prominent, no ingredient stealing the show. Waren hears the twins run into the room before they could be scolded from their lack of help. The Lady leaves then, only slower with a sweet in hand.

_Oh, my, my. Again, quite the active Miss… sneaking the sweets._

It’s no trick she declined breakfast but Waren wants to believe she planned to indulge herself some of these desserts beforehand as the Lady always has another plan in mind, just as he often does. Waren leaves the cook and maid be, informing them to continue doing as they have been. He also tells the twins to bring crates up from the cool cellar in order to have them be ready to drink what’s inside. The seamstress will be here momentarily after all. And it’s time for the Lady to ready herself for that time approaching.


	9. Chapter 9

In a dimly lit parlor, Waren rests his hands on the Lady’s waist. Dark green drapes overlapping tall window panes have been shut in order to have complete privacy. In front of them is a mirror and in the reflection of it is a half dressed Lady and an unsaintly Butler. The Lady’s gaze is on no other than Waren himself. She glowers.

“Is it necessary,” the Lady questions.

“Is it?”

The Lady scoffs at Waren as one of her hands takes Waren’s wrist. Wrapping his arm across her, Waren notices her head drops and gaze instead focuses on the floor spanning beneath the ottoman she is standing on.

**_I didn’t ask for reiteration…_ **

_You never do._

Waren brings his other arm around and hides the body the Lady so deeply hates from view. Only this is why she raises her head back up to look into the mirror.

“Would it be acceptable if I didn’t─”

“If I may, my Lady, everything accepted that goes on in this household would never be accepted in society. It’d be best to just let it happen.”

The Butler’s Master sighs and agrees.

Backing away, Waren picks up a vital thin piece of dark clothing. In his hands he holds it and molds it against his Master’s nude torso. Fleeting fingertips brush across the Lady’s skin, more soft than any petal. For the first few minutes of this normally awkward act, nothing is said. It is only when the contraption becomes tighter than what the Lady is accustomed to that she intakes a deep breath, straightens her posture, and speaks.

“Certainly wearing a corset could’ve been avoided.”

“Certainly, if you avoided eating so much _Zefir_ , among other things.”

The Lady turns her head to glare at Waren.

“Don’t blame me for eating sweets!”

Waren turns her body around to the right angles and begins going again at his current duty.

“And if you didn’t wish for me to eat more, how come you ordered for Murugi to create too many instead of the lesser amount needed of _Zefir_ if it’s mainly grown up men and women coming tonight?”

“Because guests appreciate diversity and after checking shops in high-favor towns, they have not sold them so it’s best to try out something new instead of bringing in a classic and boring them.”

_Anyone who ventures outside the house would understand so, my Lady._

“You surely sound like the life of the party. How many have you attended?”

“There should be no worry. I won’t spill out my tales of cavalier nights, there being too many to recount.”

“Talk of devil-may-care…”

Waren abruptly tightens the strings of the corset to the Lady’s mumble, only to earn a rough gasp from her. Hands go to her stomach and nearly the Lady falls backward onto Waren but he is able to catch her and keep her in place by pressing her against him and bringing her back onto her feet.

“That _talk_ is everything I say, my Lady,” is what is whispered into her ear.

_Tightlacing isn’t much a high fashion trend as it once was, my Lady. I shan’t be the one to bring you a cosmetic modification to your body without your say-so, so consider this lucky compared to what once was._

The Lady manages to catch a breath and response with an unintelligible phrase before Waren hears the seamstress approach the room. Finishing up the loose ends of the strings, the Butler hands his Master a shawl to cover herself with, in particular her shoulders and chest. As the material settles on her skin and Waren takes his place across the room, in comes Madame Zaffre with bright red curls pinned away and a gown draped over one of the twins. With his face being covered, Waren cannot tell which it is.

“Oh! _La belle, Mademoiselle Shadensnare!_ ”

The Madame approaches the Lady and gives her an embrace as if they were two old companions reuniting after decades of separation. The Lady seems awkward but for a moment, Waren pays attention to the twin. His legs shake and on a whim, Waren calls out one of the twins names.

It is Garth.

After he answered and tried to move the dress from his eyes, he almost drops it. As this floor has been tread on by too many people, particularly the twins’ dirty work boots, Waren takes that as a reminder to clean it and goes over to him as quick as one would go and takes gently the gown from him, being sure to stand in front of him in order to hide their Master from his sight. The dress is lightweight, as is everything, and a near exact replica of what the original order had been.

“Would you mind joining the other servants in the kitchen? Carefully finish up fixing the food for tonight’s event carefully with the other servants?”

Garth turns confused, raising a finger as he about questions why Waren repeated himself but Waren scolds him.

“Will you do it?”

“Sir, yes, sir!”

And he disappears off through the halls, flinging bits of dirt from his trousers into the floor, reminding Waren yet again to clean the floors. Waren sighs and turns about as the Madame meets the widest false smile he could muster.

“ _Non_. Where did the little one go? Oh! The best always run off." She sighs. "He is quite the lovely young one.”

The awkwardness of her lip bite and apparent sadness is distracted with Waren handing her the dress she made for the Lady and she takes this opportunity to be the time to recount the order and if the gown was the parchment. She holds it up high for the Lady to see but Waren’s young Master is not blind so she doesn’t need to hold it so close to her eyes. There is still enough light in this room for her to see so waren would warn her to back off if it’s a problem.

“A gown made with the finest zaffre-dyed fabric, imported from an unknown location in Northern Africa. Seemed to suit the needs of Lady Shadensnare. Must’ve been luck.”

_Must have been your Masozi, my Lady._

The Lady catches Waren’s gaze as they share a thought. It revolves around his. The seamstress seems to have taken good pride in her work, Waren realizes though the material color is not zaffre, cobalt however. A simple human mistake since the two colors are very similar in shade.

“Unusual for a young lady as yourself to request no embellishments. Many women in my parlor would love for there to be too much instead of too little, let alone none but then again I suppose this is no normal young lady nor day, now is it?”

“No,” the Lady grumbles.

It is obvious the seamstress struck something within the Lady as Waren can tell but it’d be best not to dwell on it as Waren in this society should have no place in this room, let alone interject in their conversation.

“Oh! _Je suis vieux, que sais-je?_ ”

_Surely you know enough, Madame._

“Waren.”

The Butler looks up to his Master.

“Could you check on the preparations? You’d like for the guests to have edible food, yes?”

“Of course. Excuse me, my Lady. Madame.”

As Waren leaves the room in order to do as the Lady asked of him, he can hear the Madame say, “Such a courteous gentleman.” To which Waren tends to be.

_How could one be a Shadensnare slave if not a courteous one?_


	10. Part II

Entering the kitchen, Waren notices straightaway the work everyone has done. Many a tray of _Zefir_ have been made, maybe too many. Waren sees Murugi with sleeves rolled up and hopefully his final mixture of a multi-berry puree, sugar, carrageenan, and egg whites. Based on what Waren observes, the confectionary has an apparent consistency to _Krembo_ minus the chocolate-exterior. The colors are pale. White and an array of pastels due to puree hues. The smell is sweet which is good.

_If sweets are what the Lady strives for, this surely will please anyone with a tooth for it._

The maid and gardeners have emptied the crates of both _Baijiu_ and less notably _Fenjiu_ and left them to gradually increase from their cooled temperature to this room’s decently warm degree. Supposedly it has a similar experience to drinking Russian vodka, so Waren believes it will be a decent companion to the evening’s sweets. Small glasses have also been set out and with as much precision as she could muster, the maid lifts another box of said glasses from the lower pantry and transfers them to Garth.

_Good to see you’ve joined in the help._

As Waren goes to check the time on his pocketwatch, Garth stumbles toward him with the box. The rattling the dishes loud as he shakes. It’s as if he’s under pressure. So much so per usual he stumbles. And the box nearly hits the ground. But it doesn’t. Waren catches both the boy and box as they near the floor. Waren sighs.

_There’s nothing to make these people more agile, is there?_

When Garth is standing still and Waren having placed the crate of glasses onto the ground safely, he asks, “Oi! Waren, why is it only sweets and alcohol today?”

“Whatever the Lady suggest is what we shall do. If she requests sweets, we make sweets. It may be traditional to eat real food rather than these,” Waren picks one up and inspects it, “things but it isn’t uncommon to enjoy such.”

The taste is to be light and clean on the tongue but Waren isn’t tempted so to try one himself. The drinks are to be served as the guests arrive and will most likely enjoy the lingering finish of the sweet spirit.

Waren leaves fellow servants to do his bidding and informs them of their final duties before being able to intermingle within the party comers. He must return back to his Master as they wouldn’t work well without the other.

Waren returns to the parlor where his Master and the Madame are, hearing strained gasps of the Lady inside. Sneaking around the corner, Waren sees the Madame telling the Lady to keep holding her breath until everything was said and done. Only, there are only half or so of the buttons in their set places. She needs hookless fasteners to be made so she can use them for her gowns. Courteous as he is said to be, Waren knocks and asks if he could be of help. Both the Lady and the Madame say, “Please.” Maneuvering his way between the Lady and the Madame, Waren takes ahold of the final pinch of dress.

_Best hold your breath or else, my Lady._

The moment the Lady inhales, is the moment when Waren buttons the remaining ones and is sure to take hold of the Lady’s waist again to ensure she does not fall when she does in fact attempt to breathe in. She doesn’t.

“Ah! Well, seems as if that is done.”

The Madame appears beside Waren, hand gliding over the material across the Lady’s side and stomach.

“Tight fit but at least I can begin fitting this skirt.”

The woman kneels and begins tapering the hem of the Lady’s new dress, occasionally standing up, looking from a distance, and returning to her previous position in order to continue. Eventually Waren decides it would be a fanciful idea if the curtains were opened. First the ones furthest from the two women since eyes do need to adjust, then the ones closer to them, then eventually a decent mellow light fills the entire tomb of an area. Yet after the time where eyes should be well adjusted to the light, the Lady keeps her shut off from the world. Waren decides she must be in thought and while the seamstress moves further up the dress, altering it until the skirt no longer needs to be fitted for the Lady’s body, Waren pinches out each candlelight flame that was lit in the once dark room.

“Such sleek design for a young lady in this day and age such as yourself in the wondrous color of zaffre,” the headmistress says, distracting Waren from his task. “Just as you asked, _Mademoiselle_ _Shadensnare_.”

Again but mentally Waren corrects her mistake in hue. Waren’s eyesight can catch any inconsistency however. Missing stitchings and those crooked seams even professional seamstresses tend to make. The Lady then gasps. Waren looks closer to Madame Zaffre, noticing she’s managed to prick the Lady’s arm with a pin. Waren sighs, sets down the candelabra he had been deflaming, and goes then to the Lady, pressing a handkerchief gently on the reddening spot across pale flesh but applying as much necessary pressure in order to halt the bleeding and not stain the dress.

“Careful, Madame. There’s no need to injure your payer,” Waren says as he glances toward the Madame. “Your funds will be delivered in time with or without a blood down payment.”

The Madame nods, returning to her work as Waren steps away from the Lady. The Butler places the cloth back into his front breast pocket. Time passes and eventually both Waren and the seamstress complete their work. The Lady is draped from her shoulders to past her toes in quite the attractive gown. Regal or elegant could be words used to describe it. Something not too loose but not too tight though it is a wee bit too tight as there are some things humans can’t do right. Waren can see it by the way the material forms to the Lady’s chest and lower torso when she breathes in. Well, tries to. It’s surely not meant for someone who is currently wearing a corset. It’s something specifically not meant for a child. This momentarily angers Waren as the Lady may be many things, but she is not a child. Per usual, the rather obnoxious woman’s voice brings things back to reality and Waren begins focusing more on things.

“ _Oui, oui._ That’s that. Lady Shadensnare is ready.”

“Thank you, Madame Zaffre. You’ll surely be hearing from us soon.”

“I’d best. The Shadensnares’ have always been fabulous customers, ever since I first fitted your mother. No older than sixteen, she was, and had a size 14” waist. One of the thinnest I’ve ever seen. And now here is Lady Shadensnare, _le petite fille!_ So young, beautiful, hopefully eager to go out into the world and explore life.”

The Lady turns about, rolling her eyes at her comments. Waren understand her obvious irritability.

“Just be sure to that when she does explore the world that she comes to me for tips.”

“Will do, Madame. Shall I see you out?”

“ _Non, non._ I’ll be alright, might find that young man who helped me when I first arrived. _Au Revoir!_ ”

Madame Zaffre blows each the Lady and Waren kisses, gestures awkward but equally relieved to when she was gone. Waren approaches the Lady, looking at her up and down in her new gown. The Lady bends down as much as she can.

“Gives me the chills to think about her having fancies for Garth.”

“What in all honest do you think,” Waren says, redirecting her attention back to the dress.

The Lady sighs as much she could as her gaze travels up and down her reflection. Waren senses disappointment but then again, the Lady doesn’t always have either a high interest in liking the fanciful things or the best taste in those favorable.

“I’m not sure I like this, Waren. I look like… another doll.”

Waren stands beside the Lady in the glass where she stares at herself but not in a good way. In a sort of glowering, depressing manner.

“Young Master, with permission I will tell what I see. I see the heir to the Shadensnare household, a young woman who drives men away with her poison, position and views, a person who endured much sorrow to reach this point in her life. I see no doll as dolls sit on mantle pieces, taking no part in daily activities until a child comes along and knocks the valued figure down from her high horse… Well, taking that into consideration, you were once, before it all, a doll.”

The Lady nudges Waren.

“I thought you were going to say something helpful as if to cheer me up.”

“Well, now you’ve told me to speak only truths just as you do. If I dare say you don’t look like a doll, would I not be lying then, my Lady?”

The Lady turns to Waren with a furrowed face. But Waren knows she cannot stay mad at him for long.

“As usual you’re right. What do I know? To everyone else I am a child. May as well be another doll for the night.”

_Oh, my Lady, how wrong you are…_

“Guests will be coming in soon, Waren. I’d rather not be in here.”

Waren understands and eases his Master down from the ottoman. He warned the Lady previously that she should’ve waited to put on her shoes before the fitting as her feet will become more sore as the night progresses but her only option would be to wear none. Waren helped her put the shoes on when she said to because he must obey his Master.

_After all if a Shadensnare servant couldn’t hold his/her own, how could they be a good fit?_


	11. Chapter 11

Maya from her high vantage point observes her guests mingle with the many who have arrived. They pooled into her home like sharks converging at the fresh remains of a whale. Their jeweled and silken-draped bodies enveloping the floor as Maya unregrettably hides away above them. Her Butler is beside her, looking out as well. He watches over them from her balcony like a predator spying on preconceived prey. Maya would know that look. The evening will with hope go as plan with no hitches. This being the Shadensnare household however, something is bound to happen. That is their unfortunate curse.

Peering into the deep background of it all, Maya notices her servants standing idle as if they aren’t sure of what to do. Serve the guests or become one. Sending Waren off to check on things and to speak to the manor’s personal staff, Maya asks that she be given another moment's peace before returning to the supposed mayhem. Waren informs her that when his work is said and done he will look for her on the floor and urge her to speak with whichever guests he believes she should acquaint herself with. Then she is left alone.

A temper gradually growing in size due to the orchestra readying their instruments for the previous twenty minutes according to Waren, the incessant chatter in her ears that the guests provide, and the all in all fact that there is an event currently undergoing within her house that she didn’t wish to happen, let alone take part of, bugs Maya to the point of her wanting to escape into the trees surrounding her home once again. It for the longest time has been her safe haven, those lifeless yet living trees. She so easily could as no-one dramatically has noticed her absence. So surely she could. If only just for a moment…

Straightening her back, that’s what Maya decides to do. Only for a moment seclude herself within that moonlit forest. Breathing in as deep as she can due to this unfortunate miss-sized dress and the corset, Maya feels calmed. So much so with that thought in hand she moves herself away from the column hiding herself from the crowd and begins to walk toward the exit. Unfortunately for Maya, no such plan comes to play. What does is a following long moment of silence and Maya is taken from her party with someone with a perfume so breathtaking it steals Maya’s and long fingernails shielding her eyes from the world. Despite her kicks and muffles, Maya feels weak to the force of which overcame her due to her already lack of fresh air. The last thing to be heard is the first plucks of stringed harps.

**☽☉☾**

Leaving the kitchen with a fresh tray of _Zefir_ , Waren approaches the Great Hall where all guests are situated with the exception of the immoral few who hide around corners in pairs. As he enters, he leaves the silver tray for all to see and indulge themselves on the goodies. Using the wall as a means of direction and being polite to not interrupt any futile conversations, to which there are none, Waren makes his way to the opposite end of this large area in order to meet with the fellow servants of the Shadensnare estate.

The dolt and often times rowdy cook is leaning against a column with singed hair slicked back with a too familiar a scented mousse. His outfit could have been more well prepared. With what Waren would bet is the only clean and not burnt apron Murugi currently has tied over a pair of black slacks, a starched white shirts, and coupled with not so recently polished shoes, it is averagely decent. The maid who has cleaned herself up rather nicely with even the addition of an onyx necklace worth of no importance to Waren has a teacup of Waren’s special brew of black tea and tangerines. Over one of her dark maid’s ensemble is also an apron but with the exception of a small tea stain at the upper left corner of the material due to her nervousness and clumsiness no doubt, causing her to spill a bit onto it. The twins are the best dressed yet not out of the previous ones. Their sleek suits pleasant to see but shoes otherwise the wrong choice concerning the evening. All things considered, the previous Butler who currently is balancing on a stool in the _Seiza_ position with a hot cup of tea in hand and just enjoying the party as his dark eyes watch the passing individuals and head often tilting from side to side is dressed in a Butler’s uniform with dignity and style and is not being improper in any manner is the one who Waren can say is his favorite of the evening.

After scoping out their appearances and complimenting them ─earning a sigh from the maid─ Waren asks if each person remembers if they did what they were meant to do. Murugi remembering to clean up the kitchen after the day’s work of cooking. Nettie remembering to dust every vase and picture frame before allowing any guest to enter. Gard and Garth remembering to sweep up the pathway and plant the new flowers with the precision of Waren. Lea remembering to relax and enjoy the Sun. It seems as if everyone finished their jobs and that is why they are enjoy his tea right here and now or else they would be busting their butts in order to have them be done before Waren would notice. Murugi awkwardly states that they would’ve joined in with the guests earlier but none of them wanted to upset Waren so they stayed back where they are now until they asked if they would be able to.

Seeing the only issue tonight is the gardeners’ inability to accept the preconceived information that they should dress nice and behave well as they still have on their muddied work boots, Waren can find no fault what they’ve done as they have done what they were supposed to do to send them each off to bed. After all, as much as Waren would love to be, he won’t situate himself in within the crowd as nothing more than a man. Every person has the opportunity to have an enjoyable night so Waren disregards his personal feelings to allow them to wander freely as guests. This increases their excitement and the twins end up squeezing Waren’s legs as if to give him hugs. With so much as the monotone words, “Get off,” they do and apologize. Leaving aprons and teacups empty on a tray behind them, the four disperse within the crowd. Lea of course staying behind and raising the teapot toward Waren.

“No thank you, Sir. It’s all yours.”

This pleases the man and Waren leaves him be to drink all the tea he wishes. Looking up onto where previously the Lady and he had been situated, no sign of the Lady hiding or having been there for previous minutes are there. Waren is able to say it’s good for the Lady to have come down from the balcony, although conversely the possible outcomes of such a vast amount of unfamiliar people surrounding her aren’t favorable and as easily as the Duke could show up, a legitimate enemy could as well and sweep her off her feet.

With the intention of searching for her, discretely Waren peers over the crowd which isn’t difficult given his height however a woman catches attention on the well far side of this room. Waren had caught the end of her sentence, “… doesn’t surprise me we haven’t seen our event coordinator yet. Poor thing must have stage fright.” As he make his way over to the middle-aged woman wearing a ghastly yellow gown that clearly does not suit her, Waren focuses his hearing mainly onto her and another flaxen-haired woman’s conversation. Casually passing individuals by, Waren offers insincere apologies to those who touch him.

“Yes, I wish she would make attendance. After all, it has been months since anyone has seen the girl. Heavens knows what goes on in this place and what has her to live here secluded,” the woman sip at the _Baijiu_ in a tall glass she must have personally received from the kitchen since those tall glasses weren’t originally available for the guests to have used tonight, “Surprised me too much after receiving an invitation. Believed it to be a bloody joke.”

“Maybe it is,” replies her mauve-gowned friend. “Who knows? She is nothing more than a child and could be playing games. Could not even had to been her that invited us. Could’ve been some bloke who wants what she has.”

Waren is all of halfway to meeting these women and is readying himself to ask them what all they meant of the things they said when in the corner of his vision, Nettie and plausibly Gard are seen dancing. Waren will not be subjected to interrupting their fun so he allows it to happen, even if they draw a crowd.

“It’s been more than a half hour, strings were played nought but ten minutes ago. Surely we should’ve been introduced to this mysterious girl, yes?”

“Of course. No party shouldn’t have their organizer not be present. Be a shame if something happened.”

“Like what?”

“You know the stories. Men coming here and running through the town later in the day in a frenzy attempting to put as much distance between them and Lady Shadensnare.”

“I prefer not listening to those stories. They aren’t my cup of tea. I stick to my own business.”

“Well this is my tea and I know for a fact that the Duke of Bulgaria left here screaming about a devil. Wouldn’t surprise me if the Lady made some enemies along the way from that dreadful day four years ago.”

Waren approaches the women and just as the hair-haired woman on his left asks, “What happened four years ago,” her tongue falters and steps back.

“Four years ago to the day,” Waren interjects, “the Duke and Lady Shadensnare were murdered, leaving the currently Lady alone to fend for herself.”

The other woman toys with a loose strand of her hair as Waren bows.

“I’m sorry, Madames, but I overheard your conversation and couldn’t be more interested to know more of it, these stories, your theories.”

The woman to his left replies, “Of course. Anything you’d like to hear.”


	12. Chapter 12

Despite the harsh cough that comes from her mouth, when Maya opens her eyes, she notices the room is still, quiet. And dark. Only several slivers of gray light from outside have been able to slip through the shut drapes once her eyes adjust. She knows she is in her own home since those are the same drapes Waren brought here not but a month ago. Maya attempts to stand but it seems as if her legs are bound. Nevertheless, she continues to try. The restraints don’t feel coarse like rope but smooth, cold. Like a silky dress material.

“Well, my, my. You act such like a feisty little twit, don’t you?”

Maya glances up to notice someone opening the drapes and sauntering toward her through the streams of silver light. Her, apparently female, captor, who has taken hostage of her within her own home.

“Well,” Maya says. “It surprises me to see you again so soon,” the woman appears before Maya, loose brown hair framing a painted face, “Robin.”

“Why you gave me an invitation! Your Butler personally sent for me not but at dusk.”

Maya _hmphs_ , hands curling within their silken bonds. Missus Fitzgerald, if that truly is her name as of late, begins to circle Maya as if she is prey. Hungry. Peering at her.

“I admit. You put up quite a good act. Acting like the lowly wife who just recently found out her partner was unfaithful, sending your children off elsewhere. It doesn’t surprise me if the average person believed that heartbreaking tale.”

The woman chuckles. In an abrupt manner, she kneels and takes ahold of Maya’s jaw and digs lengthy, uneven nails into her skin. Each pinprick hurts but Maya elects to ignore it as it feels like nothing of what she once endured. In the bottom of her vision, there is a glint of a pendant around Robin's neck. She elects to not pay attention to said useless trinket.

“Yes. Too bad though no-one will figure out who I really am.”

The woman’s eyes flash green, their blue slowly transforming into a murky lagoon. Maya smirks and tilts her head, forcing the woman’s nails to dig deeper into her flesh.

**_So I was correct of her not being ‘Miss Fitzgerald’. Another unnatural being in my household? How oddly satisfying… and surprising._ **

“How come you played for so long knowing he was unfaithful?”

The woman leers at Maya. Her nails dig further and by now have pierced Maya’s skin, fingertips wettened by blood.

“When you grow up─ No. If you grew up ever from this fragile state, and you should have by now, you would learn and understand how many lies a woman could tell, how innocent and devilish she can act toward someone or a group of people in order to achieve what she wants. Yes, I hated him for months. Our once fiery love washed away by roaring waves. I never minded though. Not soon after I found out I had a new love, one who treated me more fair than an heiress.”

The woman pulls Maya’s head up, invading the her personal space moreover with the woman’s questionable, intoxicating breath. The scent, more potent than any perfume Maya has ever taken in. More floral than the flowers in her garden, or were in if the twins had anything to do with the weeding. Maya reminds herself to check in the morning.

“He is a man who gives me unrequitable pleasure augmenting past the horizon of those waves that drowned out my previous affection.”

“Where is your man now,” Maya questions as she absentmindedly maneuvers a wrist from that weak bondage.

“Downstairs, of course.”

The woman seems to be oblivious to Maya’s attempting escape but then again, it isn’t as if Maya really want to make a ruckus of an escape.

“It would be rude to not be enjoying your provided festivities.”

Robin releases Maya’s face, returning to her feet and smooths the material of her gown out. Most likely the blood has stained her skin.

“Speaking of, I shall join my beloved in your exquisite get-together and have myself a damned delicious time before snatching you up and taking you off to _Him_.”

She produces dark gloves as she opens the door and exits into one of the hallways of Maya’s home before looking back.

“I’ll be sure to inform your Chayan of your whereabouts sometime soon. No worries. His issue will be discovering a mangled corpse of his beloved Master.”

Maya hears the indiscernible click of the lock. Silence encompasses Maya with its familiar embrace of pain while she remains sitting on her bound legs.

**_‘Inform Chayan.’ As if he’d listen to another low creature like himself._ **

Maya shifts in order to be lying on those waxed floorboards and facing upward, gaze unable to penetrate the darkness covering the ceiling even if there is plenty of light coming through the one window. Raising her free hands, Maya takes hold and removes the glove from her right one which exposes Waren’s mark. Though she cannot see the mark itself, Maya has the image of what is branded in her flesh burned within her mind and thoughts. Maya rests that hand across her chest.

**_You’d best keep a steady eye out for the woman who you personally retrieved today and her guest._ **

Maya keeps an eye on the surrounding darkness in preparation for the sight that reminds her of how closely linked she and her Butler are. Within moments not only does the familiar darkness dissipate and light become nothing but the room instead transitions into an ominous shade of red.

_Yes, my Lady._

Maya grins as she is greeted with the figure bound to her.


	13. Chapter 13

Waren follows close behind his Master while they head down the staircase toward the guests, offering her his handkerchief in order to wipe away the small splotches of blood off her chin and dusting off her shoulders. Suggesting an inkling of perfume for her to put on in order to be rid of the musty smell, the Lady rejects this idea and says it would be best if she attended her own party, lest it be for nothing despite her rough opinion of it anyhow. Waren inspects the dark red material that was used to bind his Lady’s hands, either a scarf or sash to a woman’s skirt. This along with a salty scent narrows down the list of suspects in Waren’s mind as there are a select few who chose to wear red to this event.

Coming about halfway down the stairs, in his attentive peripheral vision he spots a red skirt disappear into a far off room. Politely, Waren sends his young Master down the hall toward the festivities. Only she asks him why he stopped. And stop he did. He easily catches up with the Lady however yet urges her to move more quickly herself. The Lady understands somewhat, returns Waren his handkerchief, and down the grand hall she goes, Waren knowing full well he should have accompanied that blue-adorned Lady like the good servant he ought to be yet instead goes to find the mystery woman.

Waren enters the room he believes he seen that vile woman enter. The train of the woman’s skirt matching the same out-of-fashion design and hue as the one he personally retrieved not but an hour ago. At first glance, the room is empty. However Waren believes what he seen so he knows she is here. After investigating every high corner and underneath every table, Waren hears a whistle.

“Hello.”

He turns, only to see her full-body surrendered on the displeasing oscillon-printed cabriole the Lady thought was a good idea having being left behind in this room during restorations. Her thick red skirt spilled over the cushions, pooling around the furniture like blood.

“My, my. Aren’t you the scrumptious stripling?”

The Butler walks to Miss Robin with all intent of throwing her out of this place with or without a heartbeat depending on her level of obedience.

“No need to be so quick, Chayan.”

Waren’s pace slows by a little to her name call but not enough for anyone to notice but himself.

“You’ll get me in due time.”

When Waren is nought but a foot or two from the woman, she rises from her leisure position, dark brown hair half-cloaking her face, she reaches out with a pale limb and takes ahold of Waren. She brings him down onto the furniture and sits on top of his legs, seemingly prevented him from being able to get out without toppling the woman onto the floor.

“Goodness, if only I’d known where this night would take a turn to.”

Miss Robin straightens to touch Waren’s face, tracing the curve on his jaw with her gloved hand. It’s then that beneath the material Waren senses a familiar aroma. Both the lustrous scent of his Master’s blood and the same floral scent he found on the Lady that is hypnotic to duller senses, overwhelming even. It seems too potent for a perfume yet too useless for anything else.

Dropping his gaze, Waren notices a familiar rubian pendant about her throat. Glancing lower, he sees there is a space around Miss Robin’s waist that could be missing a ribbon. Coincidentally the color matches. Perfectly.

_Furthermore proof she is the one…_

“You’re in deep thought,” says this woman whose head is tilted like an astray pup.

“Indulge.”

“You must be declining somehow, must be in mental health or spirit because you did not exist in the Lady’s life till but a fortnight ago.”

“Thiis my life’s zenith, Chayan! Nothing has ever been as more exciting as these last few days. I have lived more than I have ever but I don’t need reason.”

_Well a nightmare to a man is but a dream to a woman._

Waren feels something within him, something afoul in the air. Yes, the evening so far has been so but this has something to do with his Master. This brings thoughts back to Miss Robin and her drugging the Lady somehow in order to just lock her within a room in her own house.

“Count your salad days, Miss. Your idiocy will come to end, I assure it.”

This woman’s painted lips form into a frown as she plays like a child, wrapping her arms around her as one would and sniffles.

“Oh, green in judgement, cold in blood… Don’t threat. We were just now having fun,” the woman says as she now fixes her skirts across his lap.

“You know, you are the finest representation of a mimetic individual, Chayan. The best proof of what you can offer up as a liar. You efficiently are able to mirror emotions and the actions of those around you to blend in. You dress the part to seem normal. You accomplish things us humans find mesmerizing with ease such as playing musical instruments so efficiently, the sound bewitches our ears. You act as a gentleman yet underneath that dank, dark suit I can place a bet of you being one devilish monster,” the woman shifts her hips into Waren with that. “Now how then can you say I am incorrect?”

The Butler stirs underneath the woman, not growing uncomfortable but annoyed as he needs to fetch his Master.

“Miss Robin,” as smooth as a ripple on water Waren moves from beneath the woman to the side of the couch she is positioned on, “I am afraid you still are mistaken. You see, how could one be the Butler of the Shadensnare household if he cannot do such things so simply?”

The woman looks at him in disbelief, more or less shock to be honest. As if no man has never succumbed to her charms.

“He wouldn’t be worth his salt, is my imaginative thought.”

Both Waren and the woman turn their attention to the doorway where the woman’s cad is situated, handling the Lady before yet to him. The Lady seems unimpressed with the man having a knife to her throat as they walk from that doorway to behind the couch some few feet behind the woman.

“Is that not correct, _Butler_?”

_Only you, my Lady, would be taken twice within the hour._

The Butler looks down to his Master’s face. He notices a partial area of her upper cheek is bruised, blotching her pale skin with an unpleasant purple. It takes the attention off the nail marks the woman gave her, only she will get what is to come to her as the woman made the Lady bleed.

“I suggest the idea you assaulted my Master and gave her that mark, Sir?”

The Butler gestures toward the Lady, only to release a chuckle from the man.

“She put up a good struggle. Worth a true penny when in the right hands.”

The man presses both the Lady into him and the knife into her flesh. The Lady’s hands are pressed against her, fingers wrapped around the man’s in attempt to push him away. The man smells the Lady’s dark hair, nose pressing into the strands.

_How unsightly to see someone touching my Young Master._

“What a fine sixpence. Just needs a little shining–”

“Remove this man from me.”

The man grins at Waren. Yet still the Butler bows.

“Of course, my Lady.”

Waren makes his move. This only though causes the man to jump back. The Butler’s eyes momentarily flash their unnatural shade as he pauses mid-stride.

“Come no closer, _Butler_ , or the girl loses her head.”

The woman behind the Butler moves from the piece of furniture to near the man… but also not quite as she keeps a safe distance from the blade.

_It seems as if she may be wary of her own partner._

The Lady begins to laugh as she did not a day ago when the woman was in this very room, the cackle echoing in the vast ceilings.

“I’ve lost my head already, imbecile. Thoughts as ragged as whorehouse’s bedsheets, as jagged as this blade run rampage throughout it. Murder. Disobedience. Revenge. All in tune with tea cups and sea waves.”

Her laughs drowns out with a sigh. The Lady glances up at the three individuals in the room, leaving not but brief glances with her unwanted guests and lingers on Waren. What seems to be agitation festers within her eyes.

“And this wolf. Remove me from this man.”

“If I do that, my Lady, would you not be killed?”

“If you do not, would you be defying our contract?”

“That being so, would you prefer to be cut open by this madman who is in current league with a crazed wench?”

“I would prefer for you to not disobey our bargain by obeying a mortal man’s threat with a manmade blade.”

Waren merely stares at the Lady. The surrounding people are bemused to say the least but nothing of the man trembles with uncertainty to the Master and Butler’s bizarre discussion. She isn’t wrong though. Nothing manmade could mortally injure Waren but the last thing the Shadensnare Butler would want is for his Master to be hurt.

“I will not say it a third time.”

“No,” Waren scoffs. “But will you not properly ask me in the manner I’m sure I have taught you, my Lady?”

It is now the man begins to quake, in anger from what Waren picks up. The woman remains confused but nevertheless stands in her position. With the following silence and exchange in glances from the unwanted guests, and the Butler with his Master, the Lady finally exhales.

“ _Wof_.”

“I’ve had enough of this,” the man hollers.

In the Butler’s sense, everything slows down. The Lady blinks her eyes. The man’s arm flexes in order to move the knife. The woman folds her hands across her torso. But it is Waren who is able to move much quicker than any of the three. Quicker than a half a second could be counted, Waren takes a hold of the man’s arm to his Young Master, brings her close to him and yet still allows the man to swing that blade.

What the other three beings now know if that the Lady is free, grasping onto her Butler’s arm that has wrapped itself around her in order to stay by him. And the man has sliced himself across his chest. Much force went behind it as it ripped through his clothing and pierced skin. The smell to Waren is unsanitary and though he has a side view of the wound, the few inch in length slice is jagged, droplets of blood deliberately come out of his injured muscles to stain his skin and surrounding material. The Lady stays still within the grasp of Waren instead of electing to remove herself, as if to recover from whiplash. The man has dropped the blade and the woman stares at the Lady as if she were the one who did something impossible. As the Young Master stares at the woman, Waren turns attention to the wounded man.

“As have I. Now I suggest you leave this manor in order to no longer upset this festive night my Master has spent some time preparing. If not, you will in fact lose your head.”

The man is still in shock as he nods, grasping his chest as if he cannot breathe but does in fact leave the area. Waren can tell the woman wants to but fear has her frozen in her place.

“Young Master, I suggest you return to the people. The guests will have drunk enough of the provided _Baijiu_ to no longer care if their Host is missing. Perhaps you should eat something, some _Zefir_ perhaps?”

“Of course.”

**_Get rid of her._ **

Waren removes his arm from her and the Lady looks once final time at the woman before moving away from him and the room all together. The woman begins to move as well but Waren has plans otherwise for her evening.

“Except for you.”

She halts. She trembles like leaves caught in a quick breeze, the free dark strands across her forehead buzz.

“Miss Robin.” This Butler ticks.

“You’ve taken advantage of my Master’s hospitality, wasted her valued resources, time. But what I cannot look past,” Waren saunters toward the woman who cowers herself into a corner and trembles in her skirts, “is that you have touched my young Master. No-one may touch the Lady except for myself. What sweetens this deal however…” Waren corners the woman and braces arms forged in steel around her, inhibiting her from leaving the confined space.

The devil within Waren stirs as the scent of a ripe soul beacons him. It’s all his for the taking, no demon is in his eyeline whom could take it. Yet he resists. Waren forged a contract with the Lady, stating Waren may take her soul when the deeds of death are done but to take no-one else’s. Though the scent pervades through Waren, the too tainted smell of the woman’s mildly befouled soul, Waren overpowers the demon within but remains in a deadlock gaze with burning eyes with the woman. It is very tempting, such temptation however one could never match the intensity of the hunger Waren feels for the Lady’s.

_What kind of Butler would break a clause in an already manufactured contract?_

“…is that you have injured her, caused her to spill toothsome blood.”

The woman tilts her head as she seems stunned to these currents events.

“How would you–”

“I smell her her blood on your fingertips, beneath that glove behind your body. It may be a small scent, invisible to you but I seen the marks, I took into account you and only you had means alone with her. Before this evening my Master had no scars on her face now four curved cuts are, her blood under your nails… Do you understands what this means, Miss?”

Again the woman doesn’t understand and shakes her head.

“It means,” Waren bends his head down to her level and relishes for one more second in the temptation, her nervousness, and suspense, “no more you.”

In the quickest of movements Waren could perform and with hands as strong as steel arms tenfold, the Missus' head quickly points toward the corner wall and the fatal sound of that lovely, deathly crack of bones soon follows. The woman’s corpse crashes onto the recently polished floor, sea eyes overcoming with foam and saliva slowly draining from her painted mouth.

Waren feels a wee bit disgusted as now more work has to be done to clean up this woman’s troublings. That and it isn’t highly favorable in his opinion to wear stained clothing. It is both unpleasant to human eyes and his tolerance level dramatically changes. Waren will dispose of her body, return to the kitchen in order to cleanse himself in order to be presentable to the guests no matter how disorderly they may become with the substance of alcohol present. Even the most mature individuals will loosen a tie when drinks are offered. He will join his Master to watch over her then from any more mishaps concerning intoxicated guests. Then after all people are cheery and have had their full of fun, have left this manor in whatever array they wished, Waren and the other staff, mainly Waren will clean up the mess.

Waren rids the sash from his person and drops it onto the passed one whereas he wrenches the pendant from about the wench's lumpy neck to ─for the time being─ stow in his pocket. 


	14. Chapter 14

Maya takes up a drink as she desperately needs one to push away for a time the events that just occurred. The clear alcohol in Maya’s glass doesn’t sit well in her stomach but it’s clear her guests have been enjoying it. Their colorfully robed bodies swingly merrily. They all drank more than her and only several men and women are sane enough to stand still on their two feet. No-one cares to notice her. Everyone is inhibited but they are free to have a fine time.

Eventually Maya calms herself and turns to the crowd. They are dancing, no wild dancing, no, this is a fluid motion, smooth, and everyone is in sync. It’s mesmerizing but very suspicious. One moment ago they were rowdy, then after Maya took another drink the men and women seem calm, obedient. It is unsettling to her. But she doesn’t mind. Maya doesn’t understand how the adult mind works apparently according to those adults since she still has a somewhat small stature. But she does. And Maya knows more than and given adult could learn in their life.

Her senses are overtaken by a sickly sweet scent. The same as on the breath of a former captor. Maya swoons. As she witnesses many of her guests turn toward others, changing partners yet still dancing like wind-up toys, repetitive clockwork, ignoring her like grass in a field, she clutches at the table beside her and at her chest. Maya finds it difficult to breathe with no thanks to give to her tight dress.

Maya wants to exit the room but she falls onto her knees overtaken with a coughing fit. Maya doesn’t care for the clatter of a silver tray behind her she knocked over. And neither do any of the surrounding matrons and patrons caught in a supernatural spell. Maya stares up at a distant ceiling as she cannot breathe nor think but rolls over like an infant to crawl from the room into the hallway. She hopes distancing herself from the siren song will clear her head and lungs. This sensation is almost like dying in the hands of something you cannot predict nor stop, like drowning.

**_Is this what… the mother and father felt as they died?_ **

Maya coughs continuously as she uses fragile arms to claw at the floor. She pushes that thought out of her mind as she sets a goal to exit this building, to escape this torture of a shaming death.

 _‘Little girl,’_ Maya hears in her head.

The voice wants to seem unfamiliar but Maya turns her lip up to the voice. It is familiar more than any guest here. Maya knows the voice belongs to a person who cast sorcery upon the minds of the individuals within her manor. Maya still treks forward. Her forearms burn by dragging them on the carpeted flooring. Each foot aching.

_‘Little girl.’_

Maya grunts as she pulls her hurting body wracked with coughs. She needs to escape this place. That voice. She needs to go to the flower-bed to wake up.

_‘Stop.’_

Maya does. She didn’t choose to halt her movements. It is as if there is an unseen force before Maya that caused her to stop. Her throat clears as do her lungs. All Maya does now is stay positioned on her stomach in this large hall, breath quaking, body waiting for its next command from the unknown entity.

_‘Stand.’_

On frail legs, Maya does. It feels as if a phantom fingers lifted her from the ground by hooking them underneath her chin. She is bewildered to how as she herself couldn’t coak herself to previously. Hence why Maya crawled.

_‘Go.’_

Stuck within her own mind, Maya has no choice but to dawdle as she makes her way from her home to whatever destination the voice orders for her to reach.

**☽☉☾**

As Waren exits the kitchen, refreshed after cleaning up and becoming the Butler again after disposing of the woman’s body, cautious ears pick up a woman’s voice who sings. He knows it certainly isn’t the Young Master. The voice has age, depth to it, a low pitch soothing and endearing and more than compassion can offer. The Butler has not witnessed one of these creatures for quite some time. And here one is now, a sea-maid. Waren rushes back into the ballroom to see many if not all the guests dancing in sync with the next. Waren finds his burning gaze resting upon a woman cloaked in loose gold and teal fabrics, raven hair cascading down her back reaching the tail end of her backbone structure yet the deep recessed eyes she has that peer out to the crowd are what Waren notices first. More specifically, their shade of silver. Her melodic voice does nothing to appease Waren’s being though.

_Will this household have ever a normal night? A simple evening of peace?_

Sauntering his way through the crowd and over to the woman, Waren takes ahold of her throat, holding back the strength the Butler could muster to simply snap the vocal chords she treasures. Though the music stops, the guests do not. They continuously dance in perfect circles, unhibited men spinning their female counterparts at the correct times despite not knowing what they are doing. Waren looks to the creature who no doubt crawled her way from the ocean by the cliff. Her rocky eyes stare Waren down.

“The dance doesn’t stop,” the woman coquettishly states in a Grecian accent. “Not until my song ends, dear boy.”

“It will however once your life ends.”

Waren begins to use that stronger than steel strength to crush the creature’s windpipe. She makes a choking noise, then another, and one more before he decides there should be no fun. The Butler must get a job done.

**_I can’t._ **

Waren pauses to turns. The Lady is nowhere to be seen. No sight of the Young Master clothed in the blue gown. Waren can sense the Lady is close but how close isn’t positive. Along the side of the room however there is a mess of broken glass, spilt _Baijiu_ , and an out of place tray.

“Wondering of where lies your… μικρό κουτάβι?”

Waren returns the gaze blazing with red toward the creature in the ever tightening grasp to which she smirks.

“Mmm. You wish to taste her. _He_ will reach her first if the tides do not.”

Waren glares at the thing, silently angry, blistering with fury to the mere thought of other someone laying one of their sticky hands on his Young Master. Two people have already done that today.

“What right do you have to walk in this manor?”

“ _He_ was very persuasive. And simple. I charm everyone here while I spare one child, mute her ears and let her get away, in exchange for a full course meal of the finest available feast imaginable.”

**_You can’t make me! W_** **_─_ **

As if a switch had been flipped within their connected minds, things go dark for Waren as the bond connecting the Lady’s thoughts is clipped as is the ability to feel her presence despite the sense being only dulled.

“What did you do with my young Master,” Waren growls.

The creature chuckles.

“If you wish to find out where the Lady is, you must find where rock kisses dainty flesh.”

The creature begins to manically laugh, grasping at her side as if the cackle ills her. Waren wishes to end this creature’s life here and now but it’ll only postpone his search for the Lady and her guests would be in limbo. The Lady is his top priority as it has been for these last few years so Waren will have to do away with this creature for the time being.

“Continue your tune but if you harm a hair of these attendees, you will die by my vicious hand.”

Waren release his hold on the creature and steps back. She stands up to gap at him and touches her throat with long fingernails, her bruising, no longer white but violet and gray throat.

“What will you do? Fetch her like she’s a bone?”

Waren turns about and moves his way from her. He will go outside and go to the cliffs. That is where her hints lead.

**‘Rock kisses flesh.’**

_Somehow the Lady has been convinced to jump from the heights of the bluff._

Waren increases his already speedy pace and hears the creature began to sing her tune once more. It will be the last time for her. Waren’s senses are hit with the brackish scent that surrounds this place but also the remnant trail of the Lady. Her distinct perfume unique and branded into his mind. The faint aroma of her leads him to the bluff where his assumption were correct. He finds the ground disturbed and lost within the grass is a shining disk. Waren picks it up and sees a piece of red glass made into the shape of a reuleaux triangle. The shape is all too familiar but what it’s doing all the way out here Waren won’t know until he examines all the clues. He tucks the disk into his breast pocket as Waren also finds another vague yet familiar odor. Somehow, despite Waren disposing of her at the Lady’s command, the woman who assaulted and blemished her cheek was here. It peaks Waren’s interest but holds them off at bay as he jumps off the edge.

The moment Waren is submerged under the dark water, lightened only by white waves and clouds illuminated by moonlight above, the Butler catches an amorous whiff disturbed by the saltiness of the water belonging to his Master. The scent is below him, far below but no depth will keep him away. Waren swims down, clothes drenched and his skin now coated with the smell of salt. There are no air bubbles, seeming as if the Lady has either yet to release her breath or long ago her lungs gave way of it. Waren will reach her though.

Through foam and free-floating kelp, many meters below Waren sees a distinguishing blue against the muck. He goes down much further, nearly creating a current as he travels so quick, and at last Waren sees the Lady. He takes ahold of her chilling form, holds her body to him, and begins to move their way upward through the water. Waren kicks their way up through a school of nocturnal fish and eventually breaks the surface of chilly water. To a human’s touch anyhow. Waren become a buoy for his Young Master but once he notices his Master doesn’t immediately take in a deep breath, Waren uses a put aside ability to jump from their position beneath the water and land up onto the bluff, some meters away from any edge.

The Butler gently rests his Young Master down into the grass and looms over her. The Lady is pale again, water droplets sliding off her skin. Lips, the sockets of her eyes, even her fingertips tinged with the color of thistles. The four minor nail cuts and the bruise on her cheekbone are more defined, darker a color. Her chest lifts not which leads Waren to make her breathe. And when it begins barely lifting on its own accord does Waren lean a bit away and balance his weight on knees. She will need to be changed into new, warm, and fairly loose clothes soon. Besides these physical features, nothing else seems to be different of the Lady. Her soul still is there. Untouched.

_No. Something isn’t right…_

Waren bends down and runs his nose along the Lady’s skin. On the Lady is the distinctable perfume he has smelt one too many times as of today. It is along her neck, her bare arms, on her clothing. They touched Waren’s Young Master again, and he thought he gave a justifiable warning. The Lady’s temperature is an unhealthy cool so Waren picks her up again and begins walking through the nighttime Valentine forest back to the manor with haste. Approaching her again left open bedroom window, Waren sees a familiar figure run away. Waren knows who it is and what they may want but the Butler is positive of one thing.

_They won’t have another touch of my Young Master again._


	15. Chapter 15

After having removed one remaining glove from the Lady's hand and Waren covering his Young Master with her thick blanket, the maid comes in. She had put her hair in a chignon in order to have it kept out of her face during the festivities downstairs but it has nearly come loose, dozens of strands frame her face. Unless she had been outside tending to horses, she must have been placed under that wretch’s spell. She has also rid herself of that gaudy necklace. Shaking hands holding dishes containing a warming beef broth and steaming tea for the Lady’s consumption come forward from the lit hallway into the darkened room. The liquids nearly escape the brim of their dishes due to her nervousness. Carefully the maid sets those items down on the Lady’s bedside table, carefully not to make a commotion that could wake their Master even though any commotion would be best in order for her to awaken. She brought them on behalf of Waren’s request.

“I thank you. The Lady should have something in her system.”

The maid presses the silver dish to herself, nodding.

“Yes. It’ll flush everything from Miss Maya. And warm her up too.”

Waren agrees. He should’ve changed the Lady out of her attire and dressed her in something other than a sea-soaked gown but Waren has other plans at the moment and someone needs to watch over the Lady in case she wakes up. In that case she’ll be given the liquids. Waren stands to go take up the chair in the corner of the room and move it to the Lady’s bedside.

Waren pauses and gloved hands grasp the chair’s crest. If he isn’t careful enough, he could splinter or break the piece but just as angry he is that numerous times tonight someone has interfered with the Lady’s well-being he is cautious. The maid looks at him, questioning.

“I understand this night has been confusing but stay by her side until I return. If she awakens, do what she says.”

The maid nods and moves past Waren to sit in the appointed chair. She rests the dish in her lap and wipes the free hair from her face.

“What will you do,” the maid asks.

Waren’s back is turned to her. Those drapes flanking the window ripple as they are caught within a breeze, matching the distant tides. The long length of his dark brown hair cloaks his eyes due to the Lady restricting him from cutting them yet don’t dare move across his face. Waren senses the person’s presence beyond these walls.

“I will be dismissing an unwanted someone. Personally.”

 **☽☉☾**  

Silently sauntering the Shadensnare grounds, Waren catches the man on the lookout for anyone. He smirks. Waren assumes the man doesn’t know what he is doing and instead is waiting for his partner and that is why Waren mustn’t brace himself for anything. Their plan is gone. Improvisation is all the man can rely on now. Waren halts behind the man whose attention is still focused on peering around the corner and bows.

“I’m sorry, sir.”

This startles the man and causes him to abruptly spin around. The man has been clutching his exposed chest. The good news for him is that the wound has stopped bleeding. Unfortunately the bad news for him is that the recent memory reminds Waren that he needs to be disposed of because that very cut would’ve been in his Master’s supple flesh.

“But I believe you were told to leave.”

This unnamed man smiles now.

“Why would I give up this golden opportunity, _Butler_? An advantage in the game plan?”

“Game plan,” Waren cocks his head.

“How so, sir?”

The man steps forward.

“Well, Miss Shadensnare… she has enemies, ones who could become benefactors to the right people.”

The man stops before Waren, looking up at him with eyes the shade of bole and gold.

_Yes, yes, the Lady’s lineage has acquired many an enemy; certainly none of this is new._

“And I am sensing you are one of the _right_ people?”

The man grins.

“You, Butler. You are smart, smarter than any other manservant.”

The man breathes out his words, the same scent of a hybrid rose Waren smelt on the Young Master resides there. Waren inhales deeply, making absolutely sure of his assumption. He is correct.

“So you were the one who had my Master jump from the bluff?”

The man raises his hands; tiny inconspicuous indents on his wrists noticeable to Waren.

“Guilty as charged. You see, Robin and I, we went to _Him_ together after being contacted with an inconspicuous grasp.  We were offered a deal worth our world, too much to pass up. How could we not act any part?”

“Your act dissolved.”

“It did. Because of you and your wit.”

“No. Your personas dissolved just because you were overconfident in the Lady not being intelligent. You were expecting a little girl unable to fend for herself, _sir_ , were you not?”

“We… we hadn’t the slightest preparation for _you_ to be in the mix.”

_It seems as if he is denying knowing your intelligence, my Lady._

“A mere Butler like myself should keep my Master out of harms way, even if the harm was from two mortals like yourselves.”

“I know about you, Chayan. How you would throw yourself in front of anything to protect her.”

“What kind of Butler would I be if I couldn’t do such?”

“No, what kind of creature are you that you would put your well-being in front of hers? She is a murderer in a long line of assassins and you could very well be next.”

As much as Waren would chuckle to this comment, he cannot as there is simply not enough threat for him to. The Lady would never be able to injury, let alone dispatch Waren as, again, no mortal weapon could injure him mortally.

“My partner was meant to capture her, of which she did, and afterward of this evening take her to _him_. We were so close. We surely would’ve achieved our goal if only you weren’t present.”

“If you are as vain as this, how come your lovely partner didn’t put up much of a fight? Surely the two of you are different so to say from other humans but you’re still human…”

“What are you saying? What did you do,” the man shouts.

“I merely disposed of a Shadensnare threat. And it didn’t help that she didn’t put up a fight as I do love the challenge.”

“You killed her. You killed an innocent woman.”

“Innocent? Perhaps not. After all, the two of you had a devious plan to rid me of my Master and─”

“You monster. I’ll make you pay!”

Consequently the man charges what little distance left in between them and attacks Waren. “Attack” being a weak word as the man repeatedly attempting to wound Waren leads to no avail. Waren is a dummy after all, feeling no pain. No mortal man can inflict pain or any devastating wound onto him lest what could he call himself? Mortal? The man exceptionally sweats as Waren has yet to bead a single drop after a following _Ke_ amount of time. The man is tiring by the minute but Waren could continue fighting for days and yet this man’s eyes grown more and more lighter with a flaxen shade. The man clips Waren’s jaw with the boot of his heel, marveling but not injuring Waren to how he could kick so high. The Butler feels bored with the man’s petty, continuous, and useless pummeling as he hasn’t come to the realization Waren will not give up and exhaustion will be the death of him. Waren extends his grasp and takes a hold of the man’s head. Lifting the man’s yelling form up from the ground, he wriggles like a worm. Damp hands grasp at the sleeves of his suit.

Waren stares into the man’s eyes. As his partner’s did, the man’s soul appeals to the Butler’s senses. It waves invisible fingers toward Waren’s hunger. His soul, it’s Waren’s for the taking. And he’s so close. So close now, closer than the female earlier. There is a guttural hum escaping from Waren as his inner being wishes to sate the need. In the end, his fists slam together, creating a muted bang, blood, brains, and skin covering outstretched arms in a thin coat, the last ear-piercing sound another traitor of the Shadensnare name ricochets off the two flanking brick walls their quarrel took place within. The splash of his life-force spills directly beneath the man’s remains. It stains Waren’s shoes and trousers. Waren ticks his tongue as he drops the man.

“Sir, you’ve made a mess of me. The Lady gave me this attire.”

And with that Waren makes his way from the area outside toward the front door of the manor, attire soused. As the night wind blows about Waren, drying the sticky red liquid belonging to just a mortal man, a check is in place within his mind.

Waren must wash his clothes now. Stained with a dead man’s life. The Butler mustn’t let the Lady see his state. Waren ponders the thought of a child’s reaction to the sight of blood. The Lady knowing what she does most likely would leave her unaffected by the unpleasant sight. It’s unsanitary. Yes, he must wash them soon and quickly. He cannot present a good image of the Shadensnare servants if his clothes are painted with red. However he must relocate his Master in preparation to other unwanted guests making an appearance. Two birds killed with one stone perhaps…

_What type of servant would disgrace the Master’s household by bearing an unsightly appearance? One would not be highly favored if his needs came before the Masters._


	16. Chapter 16

Upon returning to Maya’s quarters, the maid has fallen asleep and Murugi instead stands at the edge of the Lady’s bed. He watches as guard of the open windows. Head cap hiding dark hair reminiscent of Waren’s own, unfit curls having called his shoulders home. Cigar vapors surround his still form as a light sea breeze enters this room. Nodding to his fellow servants watchful stance, Waren approaches his Master to throw the blanket from her.

“Something has arisen. Tell the others in the morn the Young Master has went away on a visit.”

Murugi turns about, shielding a weapon once folded arms concealed.

“Of course, Waren. Should I ready anything for your travel?”

Pressing the Lady against him, Waren replies, “There’s no need for that. I’ll make the trip myself.”

Both Waren and Murugi exit the Lady’s room, leaving be the maid whom has fatigued herself by dancing a night away with a twin.

“I won’t ask about the blood,” Murugi gestures to Waren’s clothing, “but what should _I_ do while the Lady and you are gone?”

The two gentlemen begin walking down the ever familiar staircase. With haste and care, Waren removes the coat in order to not disturb his Master.

“There is a mess outside accompanying _this_.”

Waren then hands the article to the servant behind him.

“I trust you’ll be able to dispose of it in _your own way_ , but please wash this in white vinegar from the basement pantry and scrub ‘til you see no more crust. Then do it again.”

Approaching the entryway of this manor, Murugi opens the door slimed in scents of those previous guests for Waren as his arms still bear the Lady’s unconscious weight. Waren pauses at the threshold, careful to not hit a limb of the Lady’s against the frame.

“No-one here can know of what you’ll see outside, understand?”

Hesitant, Murugi nods and places a spare traveling coat ontop of the Lady. Waren then leaves him at the door.

During this night, Waren effortlessly travels to a location no doubt his Master will be safe at until the disaster of the event is scoured from the manor’s memory. It is a place with individuals who cannot lie to him or a brother-in-arms, so to speak. Years it may have been but odors and memories strong.

Waren glances toward the unconscious Lady in his arms, his Master whom of which was nearly taken by that creature. Her features overlaid with a purple hue, hair dried but knotted as always. There is still life in this individual or else Waren himself wouldn’t still be here. If she had died, Waren would’ve taken her soul before one of those Reapers could. Despite her goals not being reached he would’ve finished what contract they had by selfishness and greed or not. Waren glances up into the night, at the moon where its catenary grin remains white.

“Call it unjust, my Lady, but where I take you supposedly lived an old colleague of mine.”

In a not quite dangerous vicinity of London, Waren continues toward a location he can only speculate his Master will be safe in for the night as those servants back at the Shadensnare Manor do their duties. As for him, he will care for his ailed Lady. Whether it be for one night he spoon broth through chilled lips or stay with her throughout an involuntary rest to ensure she is kept warm.

_That is what a Butler does. And what this Butler shall do._

**☽☉☾**


	17. Her Butler, A Schemer

“Her Butler, A Schemer”

**☽☉☾**

The surrounding areas are lightened by moonlight as Waren continues his way throughout the surrounding forestry concealing his goal. At last after what seems like a bit of time Waren comes across the manor belonging to an old friend’s master. Once again, the Butler glances down to his Master. He tucks the hand bearing their _Faustian_ symbol into the overcoat enveloping the Lady’s body. Waren then walks toward the front door of the manor, up the steps dotted with fallen leaves. He feels several presences here, the majority of them are sleeping. No doubt the Butler will be awake and ready for unannounced guests. Waren calmly approaches the large doors and knocks thrice. Not soon after his first set of knocks does Waren hear footsteps approaching him on the other side of the home. What Waren sees when the doors are open to him is not what he truly expects. A man with silvering hair and a pair of eyes to match.

“How may I help you, Sir?”

Waren notices this is not the same Butler as there once was roaming these halls. Then again, many years have passed and truly he would've perceived an inkling of an aura similar to his if say _he_ were here. Feeling the distinct weight of the unconscious Lady in his arms, Waren questions this supposed Butler.

“Pardon me. Is there room for my Master to rest here tonight?”

The man looks at the Lady, then back toward this unnamed Butler. It’s as if the unnatural color of the Lady’s flesh flipped a switch within the man’s brain because he all of a sudden seems alert.

“Of course, Sir. Right this way.”

Waren nods. Into the house he is ushered and hears the door shut behind him. The manor has been kept quite in pristine condition since Waren’s last memory here. The Butler appears ahead him in order to lead the way to a bedroom of sorts. The hallways have been darkened as it is nighttime for the other servants. A Grandfather clock the three individuals pass reads the time is just after midnight. Halls cloaked with white walls with red and dark yellow carpeting Waren is lead through. Waren feels as if something lurks within shadows, all in all a suspicious feel, but there is nothing and it isn’t long before another lifeform joins them. Waren hears the hacking of an elderly man some near place ahead. This is when the Butler turns his head toward Waren and bows it in an apologetic stance.

“Pardon him, he is not well.”

“I thought you said the Master of this house was not at home.”

“He isn’t. My father was the former Butler of this estate. His health has been deteriorating these previous months. I fear the worst.”

Waren stares at the elderly man as they pass. A withered face on a pale deathbed turns toward him and for the brief moment in time the two lock gazes, Waren senses a flicker of recognition within the old man’s hollowed eyes.

“How old is he?”

“Nearing his eighties I’m afraid.”

“He’s strong, not many live that long. Lately, people seem to yearn for short lives.”

Waren briefly glances at his Master, the Lady still unconscious.

“He says he will remain alive until his former Master returns. He says he misses _Him_.”

“How long has he waited for _Him_?”

“Nearing twenty years, Sir.”

Waren turns silent. Last he heard, the Master disappeared after another Earl, Trancy he believes is a name, was murdered. Along with his black-dyed Butler. That event occurred sixteen years ago. Waren believed surely they would’ve been tucked away here in solitude. With this incident, it is clear Waren hypothesized wrong. In silence, this household’s Butler leads both the unconscious Lady and competent Butler to a more quiet area in the manor. Into a quaint room fit for the Lost Earl. The Butler justifies this.

“I hope this room could suit _your_ Masters taste or mere need now.”

Waren sets the Lady down on the white bed. As he removes the somewhat damp coat from her, Waren carefully conceals the Lady's hand from the Butler's eyesight. More quickly than a sigh, Waren glances about the room. Light green walls, red flooring the same as the hallways, drapes embroidered with gold. It all seems classic and tasteful ─ just not quite for the name. Waren then covers up the chilled skin of the Lady with a white comforter. He needs to find her some new, dry pieces of clothing. Preferably soon. Waren dons the coat in order to then become, in full, a proper Butler.

“Say I were a normal Butler, I would say that we would find out once she awakens. Being myself however, I will say this room is enough for the Lady’s current means. All it needs is a bit of darkness.”

Waren crosses the floor a bit too quickly to shut the drapes, cutting the room off from the supply of moonlight, which surprises the Butler.

“I wouldn’t pry if I could ask where your kitchen is, young man. I wish to make my Master a hot drink in order to coax her from poor slumber.”

The Butler nods and so the two men exit the room. As the Butler leads the way, Waren remembers what the Lady said not but a day ago.

_‘… just be nice to people you don’t know. If they are nice to you, do something swell in return…’_

“Good man, I thank you and your household for your hospitality to my ill Master. In repayment, I shall cook a foy for all inhabitants of this manor in the morn.”

The Butler seems flattered, stumbling his way a bit after what Waren says.

“That is kind, stranger. I’ll be sure to inform them,” the Butler replies.

Along the way to the kitchen area, the Butler and Waren exchange a somewhat conversation one could have late at night. Eventually they find themselves back the discussion of the people of this household.

“There are but five inhabitants of this household since my arrival. Occasional visitors such as old friends tend to appear but lately these individuals have been deprived of human activity. Hopefully the two of you will calm them down even if when I tell them we have guests their excitement skyrockets.”

To the Butler’s amusement, Waren makes a correct turn into the cooking quarters.

“Well, well. Don’t you have intuition?”

Waren bows toward the Butler.

“I thank you for the lead. I ask now, one Butler to another, for you to rest. All your business is done for the evening.”

“Of course,” the Butler says.

He bows as well and murmurs his “good night” to a person who tends to never sleep on neither good nor bad nights. Once Waren hears the Butler’s footsteps become nothing but distant shuffles upon steps, he goes to work. Waren discards his overcoat across a chair and rolls up his sleeves, paying no heed to the few poor man's blood drops which managed to soak through the wool of a previous coat and stain the cuffs as his attention must be instead transfixed to cooking.

“Time to go to work.”


End file.
